Concentric Circles
by Cold Fire Phoenix
Summary: Neuro's current tastes in mysteries has been sub-par, to say the least. Yet what Yako doesn't know is soon to be revealed on the tail of a case that should have been open and closed, but was only the tip of a veritable iceberg.
1. Prologue

Yako Katsuragi looked up from her mathematics homework and balefully glared at the door. Certainly, she needn't expect anyone to come knocking, let alone with some sort of distraction when she desperately needed to pass this class, which meant finishing her homework in spite of herself, but Yako still found herself hoping.

Neuro, from where he sat, tinkering with something Yako didn't recognize, looked positively glowing. The entire time since Six had revealed himself had become a turmoil of extreme anger, and extreme bliss. Having just recently found a certain, immeasurable degree of pleasure in forcing Six's most loyal pawn to salivate over his shoes, Neuro was in extreme bliss. Yako was very reluctant to bring him out of it, which was for the better. She sighed, and turned back to her work. From Akane's corner, she could hear a soft, steady flow of typing.

All was relatively well with the world.

--

_A/N: I do not own MTNN or any of its affiliated characters. I will not be repeating this every chapter, as this is "Fan Fiction" and not "Original Author Writing Stuff." _

_This story is placed after the Six/Sicks arc. Does that mean there might be some retconning? Well, certainly, but I'm waiting to see what happens during Six/Sicks to really effect anything that happens in this story. As a result, if you are not a reader of the manga, or if you are not current with the manga, I will let you know when you have something to worry about content-wise. If you've only seen the anime, the presentation of characters will be quite different. Please contact and advise me on IC/OOC lines based on the manga, and not the anime. Thank you!_


	2. Felines

"Thank you, Mr. Sasazuka. I'll keep your advice in mind." Yako smiled, turning around and stiffly walking away. Her encounters with the police had become both more strange and more strained since Sasazuka had been made aware of Neuro's true self. While she was glad, for once, to have a relatively sane individual know what sort of predicament she was in, there was a new strain in how she felt she should or could talk to the police officer in lieu of the Six case.

Five months, and since the last series of confrontations, there hadn't been a sign of Six. None of his former five fingers remained, though Japan still reeled on it's feet due to the consequences of Six's actions. The paranoia and helplessness of being human in the company of monsters had unnerved a large portion of the population, and while Yako could understand why, to a degree, she also understood she wasn't among their number. Monsters, true monsters, still had the ability to frighten her to her very core. Yet there seemed to be even fewer of them these days, and even Neuro had taken to what Yako termed "larks" with the people he suddenly deemed worthy of his assistance. Helping young children find their lost pets was a practice Yako admired, but one characteristically faulty for Neuro to be willingly engaging in, when the mysteries stopped at the doorsteps of friends or the feet of dangerously tall trees.

What Yako did know further pointed out the inconsistency. She hadn't seen the entirety of the final confrontation, but she suspected Neuro hadn't wanted her to. Taking care of the human side of things had kept Yako busy to the point of intruding at the last moment, and seeing nothing more than a remarkably fresh-looking Neuro standing amidst the carnage of destruction that Six inevitably brought about. There was little doubt that he had again dined well, given the particular shine in his eyes or the sheer insanity in his smile as he turned around. But he hadn't said he was satisfied. He had even managed to scoff when Yako had hesitantly asked if this had been the Ultimate Mystery.

By now, Yako was almost positive Neuro had never had any idea of what the Ultimate Mystery could be, and probably never would. After all, wouldn't his curiosity, his drive to devour have to be sated? She didn't know, but given how impossible that seemed, she figured it was just part of the ongoing fiction that was Majin Tantei Nougami Neuro.

_Detective my rear,_ she thought uncharitably, feeling Sasazuka's eyes still burning into the back of her shoulders despite having rounded the corner and placing several buildings between the two of them. _He's just hungry, well equipped, and working outside the realms of logic on Earth._ Which made sense. After all, he was a being from Hell.

"Ah, Yako. There you are! How is our policeman friend?"

The heavy weight of his hand on her shoulder was sudden, but not surprising. Yako was losing that edge of surprise she'd been able to hold on to for so long, though she knew she better start playing it up again if she didn't want Neuro to specifically find new ways of getting her to jump. She looked up, and found Neuro's feet firmly placed on the underside of a series of stick-thin branches in the tree above her head.

"Mr. Sasazuka's fine," Yako said, feeling Neruo's hand clamp down infinitesimally harder. "He was working on a gambling ring around the horse races in the United States which has apparently branched out into drug sales." Yako frowned, meeting Neuro's slowly swirling eyes. "He wanted to talk to me, but Neuro... is there any particular reason we _aren't_ investigating that case? Is it that obvious?"

Yako bit her tongue to hold in the exclamation of pain which wanted to break free of her chest as Neuro twisted around and slammed his feet into her upper back, sending her sprawling forward to land on her arms. She was fairly sure she'd skinned them, but Neuro broke into her mental cataloging of damage.

"Pathetic, to think you have so much pride in yourself to question me. Creatures of your cellular structure don't possess the capacity for thought, let alone question." He stepped off her, looking back the direction she'd come. "Even more pathetic that your brain has grown large enough to grasp the obvious." At the moment, Neuro sounded much more disgusted than pleased, but his tone changed yet again as he started walking.

"Come now. There's a kitten in dire need of finding."

Yako rubbed her arms, glad to note there wasn't anything lodged in them, and minimal actual skinning damage. "Kittens? Neuro, are you sure you're fine? I mean, I like helping out and everything, but it just doesn't seem to be," she said, trailing off as Neuro abruptly turned around and loomed over her. He pulled one glove off his hand, the fingers elongating and sharpening into wicked, curved knives that brushed through her hair to rest lightly at the back of her neck. A shiver went down her spine.

"What is that? Is the slave in their procrustean bed questioning the genius?" He pressed more firmly, threatening to break skin. "Do you not like kittens?"

This was outrageous, but Yako felt herself blanching. "I didn't say that-"

Neuro's gave her an expression of questioning innocence. "You mean we can't save the kitty?"

As nonsensical as his urge was, Yako didn't have the heart to get herself killed over an argument about cats. "Not at all, let's go save the cat." The faked enthusiasm obviously didn't bother Neuro, as he withdrew his hand and slipped his glove back on, striding away. Yako sighed and started jogging. Something had been seriously wrong ever since Six, hadn't it?

Probably – but as an iron vise began crushing her head, Yako decided that now wasn't the time to be thinking about it. She started walking slower whenever she was thinking particularly heavily – and Neuro was taking offense.

"Stop before you hurt yourself," he quipped, running down the streets, Yako pulled along behind him. Odd, but that's exactly what Mr. Sasazuka had said only minutes before.

Yako sighed, grabbing onto Neuro's wrist. Maybe she'd be wise enough to listen to one of the two of them before much longer. Maybe.


	3. Implications

The owner of the lost cat looked up at Yako with bleary, hollow eyes. "You're my last hope," he said, hands shaking. "No one believes me, because cats do run away, and they do get lost, but I know Charles Lugmuffin was _stolen_."

_Charles Lugmuffin_? Yako didn't say anything out loud, though her eyebrow did come up in question. Neuro was fully engaged in his nice guy act, sweet and simpering and backhandedly insulting Yako in top form.

"Don't worry! Teacher believes you're quite valid in believing your precious Charles Lugmuffin was stolen. He is a prize Cornish Rex, correct?"

"Yes," he said, "But I don't remember telling you that." He looked between Yako and Neuro, obviously confused.

"Of course not! But teacher, she's a very big fan of the cat showing world. How could she not feel a certain fondness for animals which like cold fish as much as she does?" Neuro was smiling pleasantly, but Yako was looking an odd mix of confused and outraged. What was that about her liking cold fish? Not that she'd turn down some good sushi, but still!

"So you've seen my Charles Lugmuffin in shows? Then you know how wonderful he is! It may not be his proper name, but my Charlie is the most affectionate, wonderful cat in the world – and now? And now!" The owner broke down in sobs. Yako awkwardly patted him on the back.

"And now you're here," she offered, looking up at Neuro. Certainly, this man was devastated, but a cat-napping? "We'll find Charlie, don't worry."

The man pulled out a handkerchief, loudly blowing his nose. "I'm sorry, and thank you so much. You just don't know what it means to me, that you believe me," he said, trailing back into sobs.

"Teacher knows," Neuro said kindly, helping the bereft man to his feet. "In fact, Teacher says she could almost run out and find Charlie now!" Yako found herself being pulled to her feet and thrust forward, then grabbed by her collar and hauled backward again. "After she eats. I know she's so terribly insensitive, but Teacher firmly believes the best results come from full stomachs!" Casually tossed over Neuro's shoulder and back toward his desk, she didn't see the expression of confusion on the face of their client. She did hear Neuro's babbling as he walked the man to the door, and then politely slammed it in his face.

"Akane, find the address for that man's home." He was smiling, but not in the kind and pandering manner he had moments before. "This mystery is on the tip of my tongue."

Yako, standing, sighed. That meant Neuro already knew where the cat was, which could mean many things for Yako. She might get thrown at the cat that got themselves into a tree, or cast down into the sewers after the ones which got a little too down and dirty. Then there was the animal rescue facility fiasco – which only was worse the second time it happened. Not to mention, delivering animals that were too frightened and zonked from Neuro's feeding afterward was disturbing for both Yako (who had to deal with the owners) and the owners (who had to deal with the pet).

"You already know where his cat is?" Yako flinched and gagged, as she found herself thrust up against the wall with Neuro's shoe resting on her face.

"The shit of a protozoan has more sense of the obvious than you do, cleaning rag. Of course I know, but the cat was never the point."

Pushing against his foot, Yako peered over his toe in curiosity. "He wasn't?"

Just as quickly as he'd been there, Neuro was gone, pacing the ceiling. "I don't have time for the questions of a cleaning rag. Open the filing apparatus of Troy." His eyes had taken on their wide, blissful stare, which to this day still made Yako apprehensive.

The drawer flew open under her hand, pining her against the window and leaving her breathless. "When did you," she croaked, pushing back and sliding out, "And what did you-"

Neuro loomed over her, arms crossed across his chest. "I required the services of a animal carrier. Unfortunately, the ones from Hell have a tendency keep pets inside, and I found the feline was reluctant to enter, despite the persuasive measures I employed.

Yako could imagine what sort of "persuasive measures" Neuro had employed. "But, don't you _want_ pet carriers to keep the pets inside?"

He smiled wide, his shark-teeth plainly visible. "Indeed, cleaning rag, but in this case I also wanted to be able to retrieve the animal, instead of watch as it is slowly dissolved in acid for the viewing enjoyment of its owner."

Disgusted, Yako chose to look down at the, well, long but relatively normal looking container. "How'd you fit this into there? How is this coming _out_ this far?"

"I made a few minor alterations." Neuro grinned. "And major modifications."

One of the doors on the carrier bared teeth and snapped at Yako's hand. "What?!"

"As I said, worm." Neuro looked out the window, his face neutral. "The feline should be in the third door," he said.

"I can't believe you kidnapped the cat. Doesn't that nullify the mystery here?" She opened the third door, a hiss greeting her efforts. "Poor thing."

"Or," Neuro continued, holding his chin thoughtfully, "That was where I put the giant anaconda."

Akane would be hard pressed to describe exactly how Yako managed to leap six feet off the ground and scramble up Neuro to avoid the twenty-seven foot long snake that came jettisoning out of the open crate. Describing how Neuro's look of bemusement slid into one of absolute, blank-eyed glee was far easier, and precipitated by his use of Yako as a sledgehammer to knock the anaconda out in one hit.

Unfortunately for Neuro, this also left Yako in a daze on the floor, one leg sprawled over the body of the large reptile. He supposed it was sort of touching, like seeing a minnow nibbling on the toes of a hungry eagle while it was cooling its feet in the shallows. He promptly stopped caring as he picked the anaconda up by its tail and shoved it out the front door. Frankly, the damn thing had gotten boring after all this time. If left alone, it might lead to the source of another mystery, worth eating or not.

Opening the door to the actual cat, he stuck his hand inside and pulled the chocolate-colored furball out. It seemed unharmed.

"Come, Yako," he said, leaning over to pick the girl up by her collar. "We go. Akane, send the relevant information."

The braid bounced merrily on the wall, taken aback yet again by Neuro's handling of her co-worker. Not much animated hair could do, sad as it was to realize.

They met Godai on the stairs, who tried greeting them with a perfunctory, "What the hell is it you want this time?" which got lost in the tumble down the stairs as Neuro expressed his pleasure for seeing Godai by tossing Yako into his chest.

"No time to chat. You will be driving us to this address." Walking down the stairs with his cell phone open, Neuro rather negligently slammed it into Godai's eye-socket while asking, "Got it?"

"What the hell did you do that for? I can't fucking read something you're shoving through my _eye_!" Godai attempted to push Neuro's hand away, and in a fit of temporary cooperation, Neuro allowed him to.

"Shit. I don't deserve to be treated this way." He rubbed his abused eye, and squinted with his good one at the cell. "That's on the other fucking side of town. With the detours, that could take all fucking day!"

Neuro's face fell. More correctly, he allowed his face to fall. "You mean, I can't?"

Yako, who was working a kink out of her much abused body, grimaced, and watched with no amusement as Godai's face took on a sort of terror. The man knew what would happen to his vehicle (another new one, and only half-paid off this time!) if he said no, and Neuro decided to go along without him. Besides, it wasn't like the maniac had started taking driving lessons.

"Yes! No. Shit! Whatever, there better not fucking be any traffic." Godai blinked. "Is that a cat?"

Charles, from his place on Neuro's shoulders, looked frightened to death. Neuro smiled maliciously. "Why yes it is. Do you not like cats?"

Godai knew better than to answer, so he picked himself up and looked down at Yako. "Another one?" he said, just above a whisper. He was fairly certain this was a sign of Neuro going soft.

He was waiting for the other signs of the Apocalypse.

Yako shrugged and waited until Neuro walked in front of her. "Ah, Neuro, I think I should take Charlie. His owner won't appreciate if you turned his cat into a recluse, I don't think."

Neuro paused, looking over the cat on his shoulder to stare at Yako. His eyes held some of the haze they usually did when his demonic nature was closer to the surface. "You really are less intelligent than soap scum, aren't you? Still, if you like cats so much," he said, prying Charlie off his shoulder and tossing him through the air without a thought.

Yako caught the screeching, clawing beast against her chest, and dealt with the pinpricks of his claws in an effort to reassure the cat he wasn't going to fall. At least not anymore.

The drive across town wasn't eventful, if you discounted Neuro's plaguing of Godai and Godai's incessant cursing of the inevitable traffic. Even as long as it had been since the city had last been torn to pieces, construction was still booming throughout the region.

Utagawa Yoshi, Charlie's owner, lived in a more upscale commercial and residential section of town. He apparently lived over one of the more famous Pet Stores, which was odd to Yako. From what she knew, pet breeders had exacting standards for their kittens or puppies, and wouldn't like branching out into a pet store, where they lost control. Then again, Crossing Tails was supposed to be innovative in their field.

Godai whistled, then glared over at Neuro. "There's nowhere to park around here."

Neuro smiled, getting out of the car. "That's fine. We'll let you park and return. Here's something for parking." Neuro flipped Godai 120 yen, then yanked open the back door to extract Yako, who hadn't moved quickly enough for his tastes. Godai caught the money, glared, started to mouth off, and found Neuro's fist in his face.

"Be fast, Slave Number 2. I'd hate to find anything had happened to your assets due to negligence on your part."

Godai flipped Neuro off, rolling up his window and squealing as he peeled out of the side alley he'd been in. Yako watched with a sense of foreboding, but shook it off. She didn't know what Neuro expected out of a self-created mystery, but she'd know soon enough. She continued stroking Charlie, amazed by the softness of his fur. Given that he looked like a wrinkly, poorly shaved excuse for a cat (he was what, a Cornish Rex?), his fur was amazingly pleasing under the fingers.

"He's soft," she stated, following Neuro out of the alley. She looked up to see Neuro regarding her with one of his half-lidded, demonic stares.

"So are you," he replied, at her side. "Do you want me to pet you?" He poised his hand above her head, having managed to take his glove off in the interim. Five endlessly serrated blades decorated with purples, blues, and golds danced at the edge of her peripheral vision.

She swallowed. "No thanks. I'm not a cat."

"Right. You're soap scum."

Yako shrugged. At least the insulting names were getting cleaner. Charlie, from the safety of her arms, relaxed as Neuro moved away again and led them to the front door. There was a man in uniform at the bottom who asked who they were here to see. After a brief discussion, Utagawa buzzed them inside, and Yako found herself wondering about excesses of human luxury as she walked down a velvet-lined hallway to an impossibly ugly elevator door.

The contrast was astounding, really.

"Press the button," Neuro said, using his hand to push Yako toward the call button. She managed to turn and shield the poor cat from anything more than a jolting ride while the call button depressed in the small of her back.

"You could just ask, you know," she said, trying to soothe Charlie. Neuro grinned, but didn't say anything more, and the grin faded into thoughtfulness. Part of the joke Yako had noticed since being immersed in Neuro's needs was how quick he was to act out the normalcies of human emotion, despite not feeling even a fraction of the emotional spectrum.

The elevator arrived, and disrupted her thoughts. By the time they'd traveled the five stories and three hallways it took to arrive at Utagawa's front door, all Yako had decided upon was the fact she really needed a good excuse to laugh more often these days.

Yako knocked, not trusting Neuro to stop himself from using her as a battering ram when he got impatient. There was a scuffle of feet on the other side of the door, and a diminutive man peered out through the crack. "Hello," Yako said, before she felt Neuro's hand on her back. In an instant, Charlie was taken from her grasp and she went flying into the mostly closed door, breaking the bolt lock with Neuro's force.

"Oh dear! Teacher is irrepressible! She just couldn't wait to give Mr. Utagawa the good news, her enthusiasm just took over her better judgment!" Neuro politely stepped inside, keeping a firm hold on Charlie. "I am so ashamed for her."

Yako groaned, adding her own two cents, while the man who had answered the door groaned similarly beneath her.

"So I see," a third voice said. An attractive, middle-aged man stood at the other end of the hallway, holding a steaming mug of what Yako presumed to be coffee. "I take it," he said, "You are Ms. Katsuragi?"

"And her assistant," Neuro said, bowing over graciously. Yako caught a glimpse of a particularly pleased smile on his face as she helped her cushion to his feet. "I'm sorry," she said, bowing.

"I'm sure," the man replied, dusting off his lapels. "Though I suggest you simply ask next time you call on people, and not roll in like a whirlwind."

With a grimace, Yako returned her attention to her colleague. He being bombarded by Charlie's owner, who had just appeared from around the corner.

"Ms. Detective! You've brought me my Charlie! Oh Charlie," Yoshi said, gently pulling the cat out of Neuro's arms. "I'm so glad you're home. How can I possibly thank you?" Yoshi looked at Yako, ignoring Neuro completely.

"Teacher was just telling me how much she wished to see what the home of someone as famous as yourself could possibly look like. After finding Charles Lugmuffin possessed a similar enjoyment of squid and octopus, she couldn't help but wonder if his kidnapper had used such measures to lure him away in the first place."

_Ah_, Yako thought, _So that's how Neuro did it. _

A look of consternation flashed across Yoshi's face, but he was quick to say, "Certainly, but please, tell me, did you find who took Charlie?"

"I assure you, Teacher can't wait to tell! But she asks to be taken to the scene of the disappearance before she reveals the identity of the catnapper to you."

The man with the coffee walked up behind Yoshi, laying his free hand on the shorter man's shoulder. "You know you love to talk about your cattery," he said, and Yoshi shot him an annoyed glance.

"You make it sound like a bad thing, Daichi." He smiled, petting the frazzled Charlie, before looking at Yako. "Ms. Detective, it would be my pleasure. As my friend so kindly states, I love my work. Being able to share something like this with a fan is my pleasure, especially one who's brought my Charles back."

Neuro, surprisingly, took the conversational lead as Yoshi began his tour. The man who had answered the door had disappeared (Yako still had no idea exactly who he was), but the other, Daichi, fell into step besides Yako.

"I'm surprised you took on Yoshi's case," he said at length, holding his mug with both hands. "Forgive me for saying so, Detective, but you're practically a house-hold name after what those monsters did to Japan."

Yako laughed, nervous. There wasn't anything particularly off-putting about Daichi's questions, but it reminded her of the intensity of this fame she'd never wanted in the first place. "I guess I just wanted to help people out with less bloody endeavors," she offered with a shrug. "It's nice, you know, seeing people reunited with the ones they love."

"Even if it's a cat?" Daichi looked down at her, raising an eyebrow. Ahead of them, Yoshi launched onto a discussion of the importance of air flow in a proper feline play-room, indicating several different air-ducts of almost industrial size. Neuro was faking pretty intense interest, even if Yako sensed he was quickly becoming bored.

"Yeah. Family's family. Seeing a few whole ones helps after everything... else." Daichi nodded, sympathetic, and Yako decided to change the topic. "I don't want to presume about your place here, sir, but are you also a cat breeder?"

Daichi laughed, shaking his head. "Daichi would be fine, Detective. I'm not much for formalities." He observed Yoshi, a soft smile on his face. "I'm no breeder of cats, at least not anymore."

"Oh?"

"You really want to know?" He smiled. "I suppose there is no harm talking about youthful mistakes."

"What are you talking about back there, Daichi?"

"Failed experiences of youth! Nothing you're not continuously experiencing or anything, Yoshi." Daichi smiled as Yoshi huffed, then returned his attention to Charles and his more captive audience. Looking back at Yako, Daichi winked. "I tried working on a sort of hybrid of existing breeds, but it never really worked out. Before I could find my breed ideal, money started to fizzle, and then I met Yoshi, and his passion sort of ended up absorbing mine. He's a great breeder, but he doesn't have a head for business outside of his cat shows and litters."

Yako smiled. It was nice to see people working with each other to reach their dreams, even if the first dreams of youth hadn't survived. Yako supposed that showed a certain truth about growing up, though she didn't know if it would fit in with Neuro's theory of personal evolution. It must, somehow. "So you two work together?"

Daichi smiled. "Something like that."

Yoshi, turning around with great flourish, announced the end of their tour. Yako had been impressed, if distracted by Daichi's conversation. The entire apartment gave off the scents of wealth and feline, but this last room was almost ridiculous. Statues of the Cornish Rex decorated everything, and several of the animals themselves watched the humans (and Neuro) as they gathered below. Yako felt like she was inside some sort of cultist temple. Thank goodness Yoshi didn't give off _that_ sort of vibe.

"If you please, Detective?"

Yako swallowed, Neuro coming to stand directly behind her. "Now, Yako."

A familiar sensation swept through her arm, a sort of sickly-sweet prickling that intensified as her arm swung around out of Neuro's will. There had to have been something she'd missed, because Neuro wouldn't go through all this trouble just to eat his own, self-made mystery. She was certain of it.

"The culprit is," she said, finding herself turned inevitably around, eyes going wide with shock. "You!"

One accusing finger, and it was pointed straight at Neuro.

_What in hell...?_


	4. Fatigue

Neuro looked surprised, then innocently apologetic. "Oh," he said, "I didn't realize I was standing in the way."

With that, he stepped to the side. For a moment, Yako felt her finger was going to follow the demon around the room, but she stayed pointing in the same direction. It took her a moment longer, but she finally realized what Neuro had already known.

"The butler?" Daichi sounded amused, while Yoshi's mirroring response showed heavy shock.

Yako kept her mouth shut, because she still wasn't sure that her first indicated subject wasn't still the most correct. Under the continued accusation of her finger, however, the diminutive man who had answered the door very primly folded his hands behind his back and gave her a look of absolute cultured _boredom_.

"I dare say, what prompts you into issuing such a ridiculous statement?" The man, about Yako's height, managed to look down his nose at her. Before she could even muster some sort of statement, Neuro opted to take his usual role in events.

"Teacher told me all about it, and after being shown the entirety of Utagawa's apartment, her theories have all been proved true." Neuro smiled winningly, returning to Yako's side for the moment. "Mr. Utagawa lives in a veritable modern fortress, yet the Doorman did not notice anyone entering or leaving the building who he did not recognize. A review of his log reveals only four individuals entered the complex who were not already residents."

Neuro stepped toward the butler, continuing his little revelation schpiel. "Two of these four were plumbers, working on a second floor apartment suffering draining issues in the kitchen sink. Another was the complex owner, who had a meeting pre-arranged with the on sight manager. The last," he said, half-smiling, "Was a delivery man, who came to this very floor."

"Then the delivery man was involved?" Yoshi looked both outraged and confused. Yako noted that Daichi was far more laid back, receiving this information, though his hand had snaked out to rest on Yoshi's shoulder.

"Not willingly, no. In fact, he never ended up being used at all, which was your butler's intent in the first place. Mizuki Floral has a long-standing tradition of delivering goods in boxes built to protect the flowers inside. They also have an extensive customer list, including yourself, Mr. Utagawa. Your butler knew both of these facts, but he was lamentable unaware of a third, plan-altering reality."

Neuro turned, smiling pleasantly at the man in question. "Mizuki Floral has taken to using perforated metal containers for on-site deliveries, making your plan of exchanging Charles Lugmuffin for flowers a no-go, even as you had already started moving down the hallway, intent on the switch. Having worked for Mr. Utagawa as long as you have, and being an intelligent man yourself, you knew that the entirety of the building in under surveillance watch twenty-four seven, except for one _minor_ oversight by the building planners." The butler looked as if he were about to interrupt, but Daichi was first.

"The garbage chute."

Yoshi stiffened into a look of horror, and Neuro nodded obligingly. "To the incinerator, yes. You wanted to be rid of Charles, over all the rest of the felines present, and while you had not intended murder at first, you had little hesitation in changing these plans. By some defect in the chute's manufacturing, the box containing Charles first lodged at the opening to the incinerator, and then fell out to the side when further garbage came down."

The butler finally managed to speak. "Preposterous! I did leave the apartment for a while the day you mention, and I faintly recall seeing such a person as you have mentioned, but I had several packages for mailing with me, not a single box!"

"Certainly, you had left with packages, but the security tapes show a most interesting inconsistency." Neuro reached into his jacket, pulling out a DVD. Yako wondered when he'd had the time to find such, and whatever had happened to the good old video cassettes. "May I use your player?"

Yoshi seemed unable to form words, his eyes going glossy with unshed tears. Anger caused him to lock his hands into white-knuckled fists, and he shook as he contained his mingled rage and sorrow. "How could you-"

"Please do, Detective." Daichi squeezed Yoshi's shoulder, leaving the shorter man in order to reveal the small DVD player hidden beneath a fairly small flat-screen television.

"Thank you," Yako said politely, as Neuro didn't seem inclined to say a word outside of what had happened. Daichi nodded to her, giving her a strained smile. Apparently the emotions wracking through Yoshi were having their effect on the other man. _They're pretty close, aren't they?_

The DVD was playing in a matter of moments, the butler lecturing on how ridiculous this was. Only as Neuro fastforwarded to the hour in question, the butler proceeded to get more and more antsy.

"Here," Neuro said at last, "Do you notice anything odd? You certainly are leaving, and with packages under your arm. Only when we next see you, in this hall, what is that in your arms? The packages, but a rather large one there on the bottom. Not incriminating," Neuro finished, "Until this." He paused the DVD, a frame depicting the butler walking across the open expanse of floor by the ground level elevators. The large package was missing.

Yoshi breathed in deeply. "You're missing the box. Oh, Guy, how _could_ you? Why would you want to hurt Charles that much? You've known him since he was a kitten! He loves you! I _trust_ you!"

Neuro licked his lips, and Yako knew she was about to witness some of the theatrics involved in a revelation of a puzzle. The butler, apparently named Guy, looked down at the floor for a moment, collecting himself. When he looked up again, despite his short stature, Yako had the distinct impression he was looking down his nose at her. "Well, Ms. Detective, you and your assistant have really given me the what for? But I'm afraid, Mr. Utagawa, they could not tell you that I felt no hesitation whatsoever in shoving your precious Charlie to what should have been his doom. That's what Teacher says!"

Yako didn't know what she was supposed to be seeing, but she was struck with an overwhelming feeling that Guy was slowly transforming into a very humanized rooster. The impression solidified as the underside of his neck reddened as his repressed anger at being a servant to a cat came tumbling out.

"--For the last time! I am not a slave to the whims of a cat! _Especially_ not one as ugly and scantily haired as that – that – that _thing_!" Guy dissolved into maniacal laughter, while Yoshi too a step forward, then turned his back on Guy.

"You are a disgrace to your family and a betrayer of my trust."

"And I couldn't be happier--"

Guy's statement was cut off, transformed into a scream as Neuro, unseen to Daichi and Yoshi, took on his more true form. His large, toucan's beak sported serrated teeth, drool falling in thick threads between them. "I humbly receive this meal."

The politeness of a societal tradition made Neuro's clamping down over the head of his victims all the more ridiculous. Yako watched with a certain impassivity perfected over time as the energy behind Guy seemed to drain, and he was left sinking to his knees with a lost expression.

Daichi watched this change in posture, confused. Yako took note, understanding, as it was hard to understand what made people change responses as quickly as Neuro made them change.

"...I just-"

"You're _fired_." Yoshi refused to look back at Guy after his announcement. "I expect you and your belongings to be removed from my home by eight tonight. I will inform the Doorman of your recent change in position." With that, the breeder left the room, leaving Daichi and his cold cup of coffee to handle the other three.

Daichi half turned, following Yoshi's retreat with his eyes. "I want to thank you, Ms. Detective, as well as your assistant. Yoshi is a kind hearted man, but he does not take betrayal lightly." Daichi looked at the figure of Guy, a somewhat pathetic heap of man on the ground. "Are there any fees that need addressing?"

Yako cleared her throat. "No. Mr. Utagawa has already taken care of any fees for our services." She looked toward Guy, her moment of understanding stolen in the downplayed fashion that all these cases had taken her moral fashionings and thrown them out the window. "I hope in the future, Guy, you can understand it was never Charles you were assisting. It was Mr. Utagawa, and he held you in much higher esteem then perhaps you deserve. You're doing a job, sir. If this one makes you so unhappy, then you should find one which doesn't turn you into what you are right now."

Guy made no response, listless. Daichi sighed, then offered Yako a smile. "Wise advice for someone your age. I don't wish to be rude, but it seems we have a few private matters to attend to. Thank you both for your services."

Neuro practically bled happiness, and Yako was more than glad to be excused while her "assistant" looked so moronically pleased with himself. "Thank you, Daichi. We are glad to have been able to help, even if the news we brought caused pain." About to continue and say she was sorry, Yako was surprised when Daichi interrupted.

"No, please. We're just happy Charles is fine. Guy," he said, before he frowned. "Guy will be taken care of. Far better to know the faithless than to think the faithless faithful."

_Surprisingly deep for a guy with a cold mug full of coffee_. "Yes," Yako said, before feeling Neuro's fingers creep through her hair. Uncanny, how sometimes it almost felt like a scalp massage – right before it turned into a scalping.

"Teacher and I are glad to have been of service. We will remove ourselves now, even though Teacher so obviously wants to stay. So shameless, she is!" With that, Yako managed to mumble some sort of farewell as Neuro pushed her out of the room, his grip never changing.

When they were out of ear-shot of the room behind them, Neuro frowned. "Ridiculously unfulfilling," he said, his eyes lighting up again. "But not for long."

Yako looked out the corner of her eyes, trying to scrutinize Neuro. "It's fermenting in your stomach?"

"No, dust mite," he said, thrusting her sideways so that she slammed into the wall. "But something else is beginning to catch my attention." He smiled, and left Yako to rub her shoulder as he strode down the hallway and disappeared.

Yako followed, if slowly. "Something about this just doesn't feel right." First off, even though Guy had apparently ditched the cat outside, she didn't know how Neuro was astute enough to be in the area when it happened. Did that mean something else in the complex had been attracting his attention? She made a mental note to check around once they got back to the office.

After a short time, Yako found herself in the front entrance again.

"Ms. Detective?" Yoshi, looking more vibrant than he had when he left the room, even if he still seemed sad, stood near the door. "I wanted to thank you. I," he said, trailing off. "I would like it if you would stop by again, some other time? It's always nice to know people who appreciate the Cornish Rex like I do, and," he said, turning around, looking back down the hall, "I'm sure Charles would appreciate it too. Afterall, you found him. That forms some kind of bond, right?"

Yoshi's eyes were borderline tearful, which struck Yako as odd only as she realized Yoshi was one of the few middle-aged men she'd seen cry recently. If she'd doubted how much this man felt before, she would have re-evaluated now.

"It does, Mr. Utagawa. I look forward to stopping by and hearing more from a first hand account of a cat shower." She winked, then let herself out through the door.

Neuro wasn't waiting outside the door, but he was on the sidewalk, talking with Godai. When Yako joined them, he looked up, his eyes losing all pretenses of humanity.

"Slave Number Two and I have business to attend to. You best get back to the Agency, in case an interesting mystery starts to develop."

"More lost cats?" Godai asked, looking displeased.

"No words; only immediate motions," Neuro said, using a well-placed kick to send Godai stumbling backward. He looked down at Yako, his teeth prominent and sharp. "Hurry back home. I'll know if you're late, ring-worm."

Ah, a visible parasite now. It was always pleasing to be something alive. "Fine, fine, let me just call Akane." She pulled out her cell phone, dialing as she heard Neuro start walking away. "Hello, Akane? I know you're there. Could you just get me a number for a cab company servicing the part of town near Crossing Tails?"

Neuro waved, catching Yako's attention. There was something oddly familiar in his hand, but she couldn't quite make it out. Then, with sudden clarity, she sighed. "Akane, nevermind that. Just text me with the fastest way to get me back to the office. Neuro stole my wallet again."

--

"What do you make of this one?"

"There's certainly potential. A bit on the thin side, but with that build and the natural blonde..."

"Those are both major selling points. It could work out, if we find the right match."

"Isn't that the point? The possibilities, my friends, we are here for the _possibilities_!"

"And standards," a new voice stated, brooking no argument. "Possibilities are nothing without _standards_."

"Well of course we know _that_." The first speaker sighed. "And we all know just how _exacting_ your standards can be."

"Quiet, both of you. I'm beginning to have a sort of epiphany here." There was a brief moment of silence. "Yes... Yes, I believe if the opportunity arrives, we should take it. By all means, we should add her to the program. If nothing else, she is a rather intelligent little cat, isn't she?"

A low chorus of laughter met the statement, and those gathered moved on to other topics of conversation.

"We have a buyer interested in..."

--

Yako had managed to arrive at the office in time, but three weeks later, she was still dealing with the blisters it had left on the backs of her ankles. The kicker of the situation was that she'd though her shoes were fairly worn in, before learning that apparently they were just new enough to be an issue. Neuro had offered to break them in for her, but when he'd pulled out a whip while offering, Yako had been far too wise to accept.

Still, her heels hurt, and it didn't help that Neuro kept her running around on meaningly errands while he forced Godai to take breaks from his company to drive him around.

"Cephalopod!" Was Neuro actually paying her a compliment? "Go use your connections with the Police to ask them about our dear old friend Utagawa Yoshi." Neuro was reading something on his computer, looking particularly busy.

"What? They're not my contacts, Neuro, and Mr. Utagawa hasn't talked with us since we showed up with Charles."

Neuro looked up, irritated. "Don't argue. I'm allowing that you might have a brain, but I guess that again, I have overestimated your capabilities. Bivalve, you will have a far easier time speaking with the Police than I will, with what the tall one knows of me. Or has that slipped your memory?" His eyes took on their dangerous, soon to be pleased look. "What have I told you about forgetting things?"

The sickly sweet tone Neuro used didn't help. "I haven't forgotten that! I was just curious, that's all."

Neuro started to move, and Yako made herself move faster. "Fine, I'll see what help I can get at the station. Does this have anything more to do with cats, or have we officially moved beyond being pet rescuers?"

Before Neuro could answer, Yako fled the room. His suspicious, blank-faced sadism was starting to emerge, and she fancied to be home at a decent hour for dinner. Her mother was back in town again, done with the last journalism assignment from the publishers. If Yako wasn't on time, her mother would attempt to cook.

Yako actually enjoyed _eating_ at the end of the day.

Resigned to working on her blisters yet again, Yako aimed to take as much time as she needed getting to the station. Neuro would complain, and doubtlessly, she would suffer pain for not jumping when Neuro asked, but she also planned on saving her feet.

Gods, perhaps she just needed to do the unthinkable and push the heels of the shoe inward, in an effort to save her own. Using a windowsill to a cafe as her anchor, Yako started pulling her shoe off when a familiar voice broke in.

"Ms. Detective?"

She turned around, seeing Yuuya Higuchi giving her a very curious look. She wasn't certain why he decided, of all the things she was called, to go with detective in that moment, but perhaps it simply amused him.

"Ah, Mr. Higuchi. What are you doing here?" Yako continued to keep a hold on her shoe, her currently free foot resting on the back of her calf.

"Walking," he replied with a shrug, "Presumably to the Police Station. What are you doing there?"

Yako looked down at her shoe, frowning. "Trying to fix a problem of mine."

"By taking your shoes off?"

"Not quite, but yes, that's part of it." Yako dropped her shoe to the ground, tenderly trying to stomp down the heel. The shoe refused to bend.

"By taking off your shoes and stomping on them, then?" He was smiling, in such a way as to remind her of Neuro in his moments of almost-but-not-quite superior amusement.

"In an effort to keep my feet from hurting. I've had the worst blisters the last few weeks."

Higuchi laughed, though Yako chose not to interpret why. "Is your immune system feeling alright? You should have been able to heal something that simple far before now."

"I seem to keep rubbing the skin off of them. It's this shoes, I know it, but," she sighed, "Money's tight."

"Hopefully not as tight as last time."

She looked at him, taking a moment to remember. "Oh no, nothing like that. You're not still playing the stock market like that, are you?" The heel finally caved, and Yako's foot slid home. Victory!

Managing to look a bit abashed, Higuchi shrugged. "No. There aren't any real equations or models that can accurately predict the market, all of the time. I can't constantly be watching to see what will happen or not, even if construction has been making a killing after recent events."

Yako repressed a shudder at his reminder, for many reasons. "I know. Traffic hasn't gotten much better, either." Pulling off her other shoe, Yako began the whole flattening attempt once more. "Oh! Mr. Higuchi, I was heading toward the Station myself, but maybe you can help me. I helped a man by the name of Yoshi Utagawa out not quite a month ago, and I've been curious about him since. He's a somewhat famous cat breeder and shower, but that's about what I know."

Higuchi scratched at the back of his head, laughing. "I guess I could, but I'm also guessing you don't much mind if the means to finding anything is legal or not." He glanced around, spotting no one of consequence, and shrugged. "I'm not particularly bothered, and I still do owe you something after that, ah, interesting predicament with the stocks."

Interesting predicament wasn't the half of it. "Thank you!" Her other foot slammed home. "It'll save me time, and I really appreciate you doing this for me." Particularly since both of them well know what Naohiro Usui's reaction to her request would bring: hours of stalling.

"No problem. It might even be vaguely interesting!" Patting the messenger bag at his side, Yuuya moved toward one of the small, outdoor tables at the nearby tea shop. "You're just in luck most of this area has some sort of serviceable wi-fi I can use."

Yako nodded, seating herself. She waited for some sort of answer from the other teenager, glad to be off her feet.

For a long time Yuuya didn't speak, and when he looked up, pushing his glasses back onto his forehead, he shrugged. "Clean record. Outside of having poor tastes in felines, and a fairly extensive list of awards and ribbons, there's only a mention of detention in his middle school records for being inappropriately disruptive during class. Pays his bills on time, shakes the hands he needs to shake, kisses babies if he needs to – are you planning on asking him to run for City Council?"

Yako considered this news, her head resting on her knuckles. "Not particularly. I'm not even sure what I'm looking at him for."

Yuuya's eyebrow rose. "Didn't you just say you wanted to know more about him?"

"Yes," Yako said, "But I don't feel I know much more now." She sighed, knowing Neuro was both going to be pleased and dissatisfied, according to his whim. Whatever had been brewing since they left the Utagawa apartment three weeks prior had been making him more unpredictable since. She hoped he was going to find his breakthrough soon, because by now she felt he was playing a harpsichord strung with her nerves. "Thank you, anyway, Mr. Higuchi."

"Higuchi, or Yuuya, would be fine, Yako." He smiled. "After all, if anyone can stand to be less informal, you can."

Not quite sure if that was a compliment, Yako smiled. "Then Higuchi it is," she said, standing. "I'm sorry to be off again so soon, but I've got to keep moving. Thanks again, Higuchi!"

He gave her a half-wave as he shut down the computer. Yako was glad they'd managed to meet up – it helped immensely cut down on her travel time. Or at least it had, since she figured that now might be the time she took to visit Mr. Utagawa herself. Afterall, he had asked her to come by and chat sometime. If Higuchi hadn't been able to dig anything up, perhaps Yako would be able to figure out whatever interested Neuro about the man after a decent conversation.

This time, however, she was _definitely_ taking a cab.

--

The Doorman eyed Yako apprehensively, before finally believing her when she said that she had indeed been here less than a month before. It was her fame that finally convinced him. "Miss Katsuragi, I trust that as a professional, you will conduct yourself in a reasonable manner befitting your status in the world. You may pass."

Yako had the distinct feeling she had passed some sort of test, though she wasn't entirely sure why.

She managed to find Utagawa's apartment again without difficulty. She knocked, waiting politely for the door to be answered. She shouldn't have been too surprised when it took some time, nor when Guy's face didn't meet her when it did open. Instead, she was staring up at Daichi, who with about three day's worth of beard, looked like he'd simply rolled out of bed.

"Ms. Detective," he said, sounding bleary. "What can I do for you?"

"I'm sorry," she said quickly. "Mr. Utagawa had just asked that I stop by when I had the chance, and I was in this part of town with some free time, so I stopped by. He doesn't happen to be home?"

Daichi blinked, not answering for the moment.

"Did I wake you up?" Yako really hoped she hadn't, if mostly because sleep was one of those activities most people didn't enjoy being startled out of into company.

"No, no, I was just taking it easy. It's a Sunday, and I've been keeping a low profile anyway." He cleared his throat, opening the door wide. "Yoshi's not home right now, but if you don't mind waiting the parlor, I expect him back in the next half-hour."

Yako considered. "If that doesn't make you go out of your way, I would greatly appreciate waiting in the parlor."

Daichi chuckled. "Such a fan." He winked, which was more of a sleepy half-closing of his eye. "Come on in."

Stepping across the threshold, Yako started to feel something was off. Daichi closed the door behind her, shuffling off down the hall in a pair of fuzzy animal slippers. When she thought about it, maybe such a blatant sign of rest was making her uneasy. When was the last time _she_ had gotten to laze around in ridiculous looking slippers?

"Would you like tea, Ms. Detective? I've got some water boiling."

"That would be very nice," she answered, following him down the hall.

He nodded, then opened a door in the second hall. "The parlor's just in here. Please, make yourself comfortable. I'll be right back with some tea to warm you up. Maybe it'll even pull me out of this perpetual groggy state, eh?" He laughed, leaving the door open as he went.

Yako surveyed the room, with its exceedingly Victorian furniture, and settled upon sitting at one of the two rigid chairs around a small table. There was a large painting decorating the far wall, a still life that she thought she'd seen before in a text book. Probably a print of a famous artist, but not famous enough for her to recognize entirely.

A picture window afforded the room a decent view out over the surrounding buildings. Most of the other complexes ended at around the third floor in this part of town, with those about a block away rising back into the sky. The entire scene afforded Yako a moment of introspection, broken by the tinkering of china and the shuffle of Daichi's feet.

"I hope you're not opposed to green tea. Sugar with that?"

Yako shook her head, offering him a smile. "Just the tea, thank you. I'm sure it will be fine."

Daichi looked uncomfortable. "Oh dear. I just assumed, with the way young women seem to love their sweet things -"

"You already put some sugar in?"

"I'm sorry, just a cube. I tend to get laid back about bringing all the extras out for tea, particularly with just Yoshi and myself around anymore." He sat down, looking embarrassed. "I hope you can forgive me."

"There's nothing to worry about. I like sugar! It's nothing, really." And really it wasn't. Her caloric intake would at least be satisfactory.

Daichi smiled in relief, settling back in his equally stiff chair. "Yoshi has a particular love of the Victorian era, but only in furniture. His taste in artwork predates the Victorians, I'm afraid." He indicated the painting Yako had admired earlier. "One of his many quirks that keeps me on my toes."

"You're fond of him," she stated, smiling. "He must be an important person to you."

The older man tilted his head to the side, allowing his cup to settle in his saucer. "You're astute for a young woman. Then again, you _are_ a Detective. At your age, I don't think I'd have been able to solve a word-search, let alone the cases you have."

Yako didn't know what to say, as she wasn't exactly the person solving _everything_. On her own, she probably wouldn't have had the initiative to pick up a word-search, so she felt she was closer to Daichi than he realized. "Ah-heh, yeah, strange how these things work out." She picked up her cup, blowing lightly on the surface of the hot tea and stirring it with a little silver spoon. Everything had a very strange, "English" feel to it, from the parlor to the tea-cups themselves. Yako took a small sip, then ventured another. The water wasn't so hot as to scald her tongue, and she was thirsty.

"Strange indeed," Daichi echoed, his fingers drumming on the small table. "First Charles, then you, then Guy, and then here you are again. How has your agency been doing?"

Yako found herself stifling a yawn. "I'm sorry! I guess it's been a bit busier than I realized. Someone always needs something solved." She shook her head in an effort to shake off impending lethargy, well aware she was being rude. She took another sip of her tea, hoping the caffeine would give her a much needed jolt of energy.

"Please, don't apologize. I was the one who was practically yawning when I opened the door!"

_True_, Yako supposed, _Though you certainly look more awake now._ Or perhaps she just felt more tired. "I knew I woke you up. I'm sorry," she said, trying to find the next word she wanted. "Waiting," she continued, "For Yoshi." Her eyes started to close, and Yako jerked them open again, violently. This was ridiculous! Daichi was going to think she was bored by his very company.

She tried to focus on Daichi, and found him sliding around. He didn't look offended. He didn't look like much of anything at all.

"If you'd like, Ms. Detective, you can rest on the sette until Yoshi is in." He stood up, coming around to lay a well-meaning hand on her shoulder. "Here, let me help you there. Poor Detective, working herself too hard. You're only a teenager!"

Yako tended to think this afforded her better license to operate on less sleep, but couldn't bring herself to do more than nod agreeably as she allowed him to help her to the sofa. It was a sofa, right? Not that it mattered. As soon as Daichi helped her sit down, her eyes fell shut and stubbornly refused to open. Fighting against oblivion, the last words Yako heard seemed a bit odd, considering the situation.

"A rather intelligent little cat indeed."

--

A/N: I would like to express my sincere gratitude to those of you who have left me feedback for this story. Your comments are well appreciated. ) Sadly, this chapter has not been very informative as to what Neuro is up to directly, but being from a more Yako-centered point of view, that is perhaps inevitable. Kudos to anyone who guessed the additional culprit in the "cat-napping!"


	5. Movement

Akane was typing when the office phone rang. She paused, even though there was little she could do, outside of take a written message. Being reduced to her hair alone had been an interesting experience, at least once she was conscious of being alive again. Neuro had certainly brought about many changes with his intrusion on this world.

For a moment, nothing happened in the silence between rings. Neuro was in, looking up information online, and hadn't so much as acknowledged the phone's cries for help. On the last ring, he finally turned his head, eyes momentarily unfocused as his voice took on the sweet tones of a young human male. "Katsuragi Detective Agency, home to the brilliant Piggish Detective! How may we help you?"

"Piggish Detective? I can't say that would be entirely wrong, but it's certainly an odd way to go about publicizing herself. Is Yako in right now?"

Neuro's posture changed as he relaxed back into his seat. "No, she is not. Teacher has been very negligent of her office today. Her great mind must be working very hard on a case right now to have needed her assistant to stay back and process all the necessary paperwork to keep the business running! How much foresight, Teacher has!"

The woman on the phone sighed. "I'm sorry to hear that, Mr. Neuro. Will she be back soon? We were supposed to be having dinner together, and I tried calling her on her cell not too long ago, but she didn't pick up. If you could just let her know I got in earlier than I expected, I would appreciate that."

"Certainly, I will let Teacher know you are in town. How horrible, to not answer her own mother's call! She must be very busy indeed, or else ignoring you out of spite."

Yako's mother laughed. "She probably is busy, though she was so insistent on being the one who was going to cook I do find it odd not to have heard from her. Let her know if she doesn't call me back soon, she'll just have to live with my cooking!"

Neuro, not fully intending to deliver the message in the first place, now knew he would tell Yako of no such call from her mother. He didn't exactly decide his actions based on spite, but given how long it had been taking her to perform one simple errand, he assumed she could do with a comeuppance down the line. Yako being confronted with her mother's toxic version of home cooking was enough to make Neuro smile, and he did so as he hung up the phone.

"Delicious." Swiveling around, he looked at the computer clock. His smile faded into a look of annoyance, then blank-faced glee. "Slave number One has been gone for seven hours now."

Akane perked up. Seven hours? If anything, didn't that mean Yako's mother had gotten in late?

Neuro had apparently reached a similar conclusion. His moods, such as they were, seemed to favor the inevitable appearance of Yako, knowing full well the weary set to her shoulders that would appear for a moment as she stepped through the doorway, about to explain the late hour and return like any good slave should.

Only nothing, so far, was happening. Neuro didn't particularly want to drag his slave back home, and the twisting edge of his hunger wasn't demanding that he do so either. He was content to wait, as long as the wait proved fruitful.

Hours later, it still had done nothing. Yako's mother called once more, but Neuro didn't pick up. Akane took a message, dutiful in her services, and out of loyalty to Yako. Unfortunately, the message left stated Mrs. Katsuragi was starting dinner, so it wasn't much of a joyful message in the end. It did tell Neuro two things, however.

One, Yako still had not returned. Two, she hadn't sought to avoid him by returning to her own home, despite having arranged to meet with her own mother. Yako was a fairly sentimental human, or at least one with a sense of honor. The breach was conspicuous.

"Akane, please watch the office. If Yako arrives, inform me." He stood, dematerializing through the window before taking his own strange paths through the city. Yako would not remain hidden for long.

Very few things could hide from Neuro for long – but first, to the police station. A little method would help things along.

--

Her first sensation was a tingling, in the tips of her fingers, her toes, and the end of her nose. Eventually her ears, too, tingled, and then Yako found she was moving her eyelids, and licking her too-dry lips with a thick, dry tongue. She could remember a feeling of rising, maybe of using the elevator. Knocks on a door, but then nothing else.

This lack of knowledge kept her mind occupied as the limbs of her body slowly restored themselves to working order.

When her eyes could focus, she began to look around. Steel walls reflected the fluorescent bulb off all four sides of the enclosed room.

Steel? Turning her head, Yako tried to work this new bit of information into the blind spot in her memory bank. She hadn't been heading toward anyplace with steel. She had been going to the Police, yes, that she could remember. The coffee shop, and talking with Yuuya, she remembered that as well.

Then she had wanted to visit... someone. Someone with a cat.

_Yoshi_, she thought. _The breeder._

Had she made it? She must have, at least to his front door. The elevator ride, the knocking – she must have made it there. Yet where was she now?

_Ms. Detective, a familiar voice says. What can I do for you?_

Damnit, but she couldn't grab hold of that memory. Yoshi, or maybe the other man, had to have been home. Still, that didn't explain this room.

The turn of her head had brought a few other peculiarities to her attention. A television, set in the opposite corner, and the blank eye of the video camera beneath. A small, round toilet-bowl, lacking a seat or any other niceties.

Hard to mistake this as anything other than a holding cell of some sort. She'd been kidnapped?

This realization, stumbling on the heels of her last observations, prompted Yako into taking close stock of what her situation entailed. She was fully clothed, and, as she found the energy to explore, she still had all of her valuables she remembered leaving the office with earlier that day. Her cell phone appeared to be dead, but playing around with the power button proved it had only been turned off. Once it's screen lit up, however, she was greeted with the unwelcome sight of a complete lack of service.

"Figures. Nothing gets to be _that_ easy."

Still, that left her with her wallet, a working cell phone, if she could find some way of getting reception, her clothing, a cot (which further inspection proved was screwed to the ground), the television, the camera, and the toilet.

Looking up, her mind registered two other things. The unprotected light bulbs, and the face of the ventilation shaft.

A plan began to take form. Yako wasn't sure why she was here, or where here was, but she could begin to form a hypothesis concerning _how_ she had ended up here. Whoever had brought her needed to have taken her from Yoshi's apartment building, and given the watchful eyes of the Doorman, probably held her within the building itself or in one of those attached. She doubted that she'd been pushed out through the garbage chute, though that, too, was possible.

She also had the time. Right now, it was a little after midnight.

The time made her pause. Was that possible? She was officially into the next day, and not only that – she'd missed the dinner with her mother! God knows what the older woman had cooked, but Yako hoped it left the kitchen usable.

Her thoughts fluttered over these sorts of inconsequential details as she unlaced her shoes. "Mom must be worried." She wasn't certain this was true, at least not entirely. Her mother had strong faith in Yako's sense and ability to take care of herself. It was a life-long trend, and possibly not always the wisest one.

Though in situations like this, perhaps it did pay off.

"You know, I don't think the school ever had in mind for their uniforms to survive half the things I've put them through," she said, addressing the room at large as she stripped off her sweater. She jumped and flung it at the video camera, until it finally stuck. "Though I won't complain. Durability is a nice bonus."

Clamoring back up the bed, she did her best to balance while working at the flat screws holding the grate in place on the wall. It was a slow process, but within the half hour she'd managed to get three of the screws out. The grate swung down on the fourth, the lower left, with some effort.

Of course, this left Yako eying the size of the opening, and thanking whatever was around for her own skinny frame. As it was, her shoulders were going to scrape things, and her knees probably wouldn't fare much better. The flashbacks to other adventures with Neuro almost made her smile, and not particularly out of fondness of the memories.

_Never know where you'll learn the important skills in life, huh Dad?_ The architect had been fond of similar sayings. Yako found they came to mind at odd times. Another one which came to mind, as she lifted herself into the duct, was, _If a bear can do it this way, then so can I._

Inching her way up the duct, Yako took a quick look around. Alright, so she'd managed the first step. Holding her breath, she waited to see if she'd manage the second. A small breath of air from the right told her she might just have accomplished the second.

She inched back out of the grate, picking up a shoe and tossing it gently at the light above her. After a few jarring moments, the bulb displaced enough to flicker out. The second light, a moment later, followed it's brother into similar darkness.

Not allowing herself to hesitate, Yako lifted herself into the duct and proceeded to crawl once more, worming around to the right at the first intersection. The duct was barely wide enough to allow her to move, and bits of scattered mothballs and spiderwebs constantly brushed against her skin. It was disgusting, but hardly on the level of many things she'd encountered as a side effect of being Neuro's front. Compared to entrails, spiderwebs were welcome decorations, if a bit gothic for her style.

Her phone chirped, cheerfully informing Yako of a return to a service area. Reception, finally! Soon she'd be out of this whole place, and then she could call -

Actually, who _to_ call first? Her mother, Neuro, or Mr. Sasazuka? Yako paused. There really shouldn't be any sort of contest.

Solving the mental dilemma, Yako wiggled around another corner, peering through one of the short shafts into a room as she did so. Odd, but something about this place looked familiar. She moved down the offshoot, squinting as she tried to figure out what reminded her of something, and then she paused.

She recognized that bookcase, and at least one of those cats. Less than a month ago, she'd been standing right near there when Neuro had revealed the source of Yoshi Utagawa's mystery!

Her mind tripped over itself, and then as if a veritable flood had been released, she remembered what she'd previously been forgetting. Daich answering the door, waiting for Yoshi, the inexplicable tiredness after the tea – he'd drugged her and thrown her in the room. It was the most likely explanation, but as Yako pushed herself backward back toward the main duct, it was an explanation that left her feeling hollow and sick at heart.

Was this what Neuro had been sensing? Was the mystery around Yoshi having to do with why Daichi had drugged her? There had to be some method to the madness driving Neuro toward that small, metal room she'd woken inside.

The young woman pulled her cellphone out, edging toward the stronger source of fresh air. She had to be close to outside, now, in fact, mere feet away. The room she'd just seen had shared windows with the outside world.

Voices echoed through the ducts, and Yako fell quiet. She listened, unable to tell the source of the sounds, and they fell away a few moments later. Unwilling to attract their attention, in case they were voices coming from the Utagawa residence, she settled on a brief communication with Akane.

"Need Sasazuka's number, ASAP" sent as an email to Akane. The answer itself followed soon-after.

"XXX-XXXX. Are you alright? Your mother called."

Yako smiled, then shook her head. She sent back a short message, "will be," before calling the number provided. At least her mother had been checking up on Yako. It was always nice to know your parent looked forward to seeing you.

"Hello, Ishigaki talking."

"Mr. Ishigaki, is Mr. Sasazuka available?"

The young man on the other side sounded annoyed. "Not since your little, er, hellish friend came over and started making demands. Mr. Usui's about ready to pitch a fit, all because _you_ didn't show up here this afternoon --" Jun stopped mid sentence, sort of slowly grasping what was going on. "Mr. Sasazuka! The meddling detective is on line three!"

Yako, could hear shuffling, an exclamation of pain, and then two voices simultaneously. Neuro, in his mostly-polite public facade, and Mr. Sasazuka, sounding as cool as ever.

"Ms. Katsuragi?"

"Teacher? I was so worried when I didn't hear from you."

Sasazuka and Yako both gave that statement no notice. Yako was even inclined to ignore Neuro for the moment, if only because she wanted to talk to Sasazuka first. "I'm sorry, I would have called, but I just managed to get into reception. Mr. Sasazuka, it appears I had been kidnapped."

"Had?"

Neuro said nothing, listening for the moment.

"Well, I'm in the air ducts right now, and I probably can get out of them, but everything was too well laid out. I asked Mr. Higuchi about Yoshi Utagawa earlier today -"

Neuro interjected a little huff of pleased amusement. Yako continued. "- But I'm not sure I was looking in the right direction. Dai--" she said, cut-off mid sentence as an arm wrapped around her from behind and another hand pulled the phone away from her face. "Let go!"

"Ms. Katsuragi? What's going on?"

At the police station, Sasazuka and Neuro wore grim, straight faces as sounds of a struggle and clanging metal deteriorated into a whine of air flowing past the cellphone.

Neuro hung up, looking speculative. A slow smile crossed his face, and he bothered to hide it behind his hand. Interesting, and also, amusing. "That answers my questions."

Sasazuka handed the phone over to Ishigaki, eying the demon. "You aren't concerned."

"Hardly." His eyes flashed. "Teacher has been in far more interesting jars without pickling."

"And we can't technically file a missing person's report for a full two days. Of course, Ms. Katsuragi did just call in to tell us she was kidnapped, so that takes some of the guesswork out of the whole process." He dug around in his shirt pocket, pulling out a battered box of cigarettes.

"I'll find her."

"I'm sure. We'll make it matter." Lighting up, Sasazuka looked toward Jin, who shook his head at the continued silence. "Yoshi Utagawa? Should I start looking at his residence?"

Neuro paused, then allowed a small dip of his head. "As you see fit, officer. Care to give me a lift?"

Jin made the sign of the evil eye, but Sasazuka nodded, unaffected. "If you'll point me where I need to go."

"Of course." With those words, the three men were off, only one with the best of intentions.

--

"Think you're smart, crawling through the vents like a little rat? Don't you know, on my farm, we shot little scurrying rats _dead_." The gun clicked behind Yako's head, and she held still. Moments passed, and she slowly forced her heart to stop pounding, lest she gag on the dirty sock currently keeping her from making a sound in the back of the van she was riding in.

"Lucky for you, the boss says you're a kitty cat. Can't hurt the little pussy. No drowning kittens on his little farm, oh no." Clean-shaven, the man behind her kicked Yako down and eyed her speculatively. "Pretty little kitty, too smart for her own good."

Yako was, quite frankly, getting tired of the feline metaphors. Since being bodily pulled out of the ventilation shaft, cuffed, gagged, and dragged down the fire-escape, she'd been threatened with no less than forty-seven different terms of feline endearment, bedevilment, and general, all around statement.

She couldn't, however, decide if this was better or worse than Neuro's own proclivities and insinuations. Sadly, Neuro was outclassing them by far. He may have fiendish creativity, but that creativity at least had more impaction than the same handful of insults thrown through the grinder again and again.

Catching the feel of the van's jumpy course, Yako took the earliest opportunity to jump along with the van and slam her heel sideways into the man's shin. Feigning innocence alongside confusion wasn't hard – she was well and truly confused. Her current guard launched into a verbal assault of the driver, which at least broke the cat-calling monotony.

Now, if only she could get the back door open.

A sudden swerve of the vehicle sent her smashing into the side, leaving her dazed.

"How the hell – what, did the _sidewalk_ move, you chicken-headed little shit?"

"Pothole," was the reply. "City's still full of them. How's the merchandise?"

Rough hands pulled Yako back across the van by her hair. In a fashion, it was almost reassuringly normal. _Perhaps I need to evaluate my lifestyle_, she thought as she was flipped onto her back.

"Shit, she's bleeding. Kitty, how many fingers am I holding up?" The man pulled the sock out of her mouth.

Three fingers waved in front of Yako's face, but she turned her head to the side. Her handler laughed, then slapped her across the face.

"_How many fingers?_"

"Three," she spat back, hurting. There was such insult to being slapped. Even Neuro responded to that slight, and Yako found she was irate at the treatment, more than frightened. They clearly weren't aiming on killing her right now, not after that merchandise comment. God knows what they'd do eventually.

"Good kitty." He looked toward the front of the van. "Everything's fine."

"Good," the other man said, "Because we just got where we were meaning to go."

Smiling, the man holding Yako reached down and picked up the sock again. "Open wide," he said, doing his best to shove it back into Yako's mouth. Three bitten fingers later, the thug settled on ductape. Some battles weren't worth bleeding over.

The van's engine cut out, and Yako found herself gagged again, drooling, and smashed to the van's floor. A rice sack was being worked over her unwilling head as the back doors opened.

"You guys are early."

The driver sighed. "Caught our little bit trying to pull a fast one out of the ventilation ducts. Knocked the lights out of the main room an everything, but only covered up the decoy camera. Figure's she's wily enough to make it to the fresh air."

"Makes our part of the job more interesting. The Director's waiting."

"With our paychecks," the man holding Yako down said, "Or else he can find himself a new entourage. I'm sick of this shit." Yako felt him let pressure off her back, and was dragged roughly forward and dropped onto something soft and rattling.

"Money in hand," the newest voice agreed. "What happened to her face?"

The driver sighed. "Pothole."

The new voice went silent, and Yako felt something heavy settle across her chest and thighs. A moment more, and she was moving, the sound of multiple wheels grinding across an uneven surface a strange sort of music in her ears.

After a moment, and what felt like a gradual downward slope, she came to a jarring stop. An electric door screeched open, and then shut. Gears turned, and a moment later she was falling into a deeper darkness. _An elevator_, she concluded. _Going down. How many levels?_ A guess was near improbable, but she held her breath and counted the seconds until they stopped. _Thirty-nine._

The door opened again, loud as always, and the recognizable hum of fluorescents soothed Yako's ears. She concentrated on breathing, counting again how long it took for them to arrive where-ever they were taking her. Five minutes, two lefts, three rights, and one left. She had to remember that, if she wanted to get out of here. Even as they lifted her off whatever had carried her down here, Yako was trying to engrave in her memory banks exactly what she remembered.

The ricebag was pulled off her head, leaving her disorientated in the sudden, bright lights. A moment later, the ductape was ripped off, and she cried out at the sudden, jarring pain.

"Where," she said, her voice a croak. Yako cleared her throat. "Where am I?" Eyes watering, hair cowlicked, she peered past the lights shining directly into her eyes.

"Ah, Ms. Katsuragi. Welcome to Caravan. I do hope you'll like your stay." An unfamiliar voice hailed from the shadowy figures facing her. "You see, I've set this all up just so I could have a little interview with you." The voice came forward, and a pleasant-looking middle-aged woman materialized within the lights. "After all, I _am_ your biggest fan."

Swallowing convulsively, Yako tried to figure out if she'd seen this woman's face before, but couldn't recognize her for anything. "I, er, what?"

"Turn down the lights." The woman waited until her order had been followed, then smiled back down at Yako. "Ms. Katsuragi, or shall I call you Yako? Yako, I believe. Last names are such _formal_ nuisances, don't you agree."

Yako didn't particularly agree, but the woman wasn't pausing to hear her answers.

"You really look a fright. Midnight trysts not your usual style? A pity. It's far more romantic. Do you have any romance in your life? I suppose we could build something up with that assistant of yours, or perhaps the older detective you're around every so often. Of course, _you_ will be telling us all we wish to know, dear girl. There are so many questions I'm just _dying_ to get answered."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Yako said, an honest enough statement. "I don't think I've ever done an interview in my life, and while I thank you for the offer, I really don't think I'd be what you'd want on screen-"

The woman held a finger to Yako's lips. "Call me the Director, Yako. Director. If anyone knows what I want on screen, I do, and I'm saying you are exactly it." The woman stepped away, smiling serenely. "Of course, I understand a bit of reluctance for the camera shy, so I've helpfully provided you with a little trick for getting over such silly things. I like to call it Tick Tock."

Yako didn't like the sound of this, and it must have shown, as the Director smiled and pushed a button, bringing a television screen down from the ceiling above them. After a moment, the screen flickered to life, and a gathering of teenagers presented themselves. Thirty, perhaps forty of them wandered in varying stages of health and presentableness around a small enclosed area within a larger space. None of the kids looked happy.

The Director tutted, placing a hand on Yako's shoulder. "Runaways and vagrants. They're always so convinced life isn't worth living the way they've been told, and they end up in the cities, stealing to survive. Some get caught and get honest, but sadly, most go on to a life of petty crime and violence, mugging schoolteachers on their way home." She shook her head, over-exaggerating her sadness. "Sad really."

Her hand squeezed Yako's shoulder. "For each question you don't answer, I tell my men to take a shot. Now, most of them are fairly good shots, and a handful are even merciful. Not all of them, however. Just like not every gun is loaded in this little game, not every shooter plays fair. Some just live to see a little bit of suffering in the eyes of another poor, defenseless soul."

The Director clasped her hands in front of her body, and then smiled down at Yako. "Tick, tock, Yako. Shall we begin?" She snapped her fingers, and a fairly expensive camera was brought in and set up on a tripod, at an angle to Yako and the television screen. "We'll get a little make-up on you, and then see where the questions take us. Inquiring minds want to know, Yako."

"You have no right to do any of this. Those people may have not understood what they really wanted, or what they did or didn't have, but they don't deserve to be shot just because you decide they should!" Yako was infuriated by the Director's blasse view toward the sanctity of life.

The older woman smiled, motioning for a young man to move in and begin working on Yako's face. "Yako, my dear, their lives are no longer in my hands. They most certainly rest in your capable, spotless palms. I can only hope you don't stain easily." Her smile faded as she looked around, frowning. "Aziz!" she called out, "More light!"

A dark young woman brought in a stand of lights, fiddling around at the Director's whim and fancy. Yako sat still, the young man wiping her face clean with gentle hands. "She's serious, you know," he said conversationally. "If you just play along, not one shot will be fired. The Director runs a tight crew." He finished, pulling out various instruments Yako recognized if didn't use herself. "Now, let's make those eyes stand out!"

--

Neuro stood behind Sasazuka as the detective knocked on Yoshi Utagawa's apartment door. After a moment, the familiar, round face of the middle aged owner peered out with a classically confused expression on his face. "Officers, Detective." He peered further into the hall, then looked at Neuro. "Where's the young miss?"

Sasazuka, forced to leave his cigarette a the entrance, frowned a bit. "Actually, that's what we're here to ask you. May we come in?"

Yoshi nodded, the confusion still apparent on his face. "Ms. Katsuragi is missing?"

Ishigaki huddled close to his superior, doing his best to avoid being too near Neuro. (This was succeeding only in amusing Neuro, just the tiniest bit. He was still by and large torn between hunger and irritation over Yako's second kidnapping, though he wasn't expecting any clone-wars by the end of this puzzle.) "Seems like the nosy detective has been just a bit too nosy."

Sasazuka hit the back of Ishigaki's head. "Ms. Katsuragi called the police station a little less than twenty minutes ago. We have reason to believe she was being held here, against her will. We've traced the signal on her cell phone to roughly twenty feet from your apartment, Mr. Utagawa."

Yoshi held up his hands, as if to ward off the bad news. "Wait, Ms. Katsuragi called from here? I don't know about twenty feet outside of here, but the only ones home are me and the cats." His hands lowered, concern outweighing everything else on his face. "Daichi told me Ms. Katsuragi stopped by earlier to see me, but she left before I got back home. I was sad to have missed her, but I didn't think she would truly go missing! Oh dear!"

Sasazuka was unmoved, and Neuro had a uniquely passive expression on his face. "Teacher was here, earlier, then?"

Yoshi, who had leaned against the wall for support, nodded a bit. "Daichi gave her tea, but she left afterward. You can't expect a young girl to wait on an old cat fancier forever, even if she _is_ a fan of the breed." He looked at his hands, which trembled. "Tell me, officers, do you think she's," he paused, then swallowed. "She's okay?"

Neuro smiled, his pleasant, pandering look plastered across his face. Jin shivered.

"Of course, Mr. Utagawa! Teacher is merely involved in a conspiracy which leads us to your doorstep, but which must also surely be by pure ill fated chance! She is probably laughing at all of us right now, sipping mai tais on a rooftop while stargazing! Absolutely not close to death at the hands of ruthless men with a fetish for wearing human skin." He patted Yoshi's shoulder, and the man looked more stricken than ever.

Disapproving, Sasazuka stepped forward. "We don't know at this point. We do know that Ms. Katsuragi was kidnapped, and you are telling us she was here earlier. Is this Diachi around? I would like to question him."

Yoshi weakly shook his head, trying to grab onto Neuro's arm for support. "He left about two hours ago, on a business trip down the coast. He should be back in three days," Yoshi added, looking pained. "I can give him a call?"

Neuro extracted his hand from Yoshi's grasp, dusting at the turned up sleeve. "We'll call him from the station. Mr. Utagawa, if you would please come with us to help give a statement, we would greatly appreciate your time." Sasazuka finished speaking, and Yoshi nodded his head with a final certainty.

"Yes, of course, anything. Poor Ms. Katsuragi! Such a fine young detective, so promising! She must be safe, she just absolutely _must_," Yoshi stated, looking Sasazuka in the face.

"She will be."

"Despite any wish to the contrary," Jin grumbled, before finding himself launched toward the door and falling flat on his face. The demon stood nearby, fingers near his mouth.

"Oops. I didn't see you there. My apologies! One should always acknowledge one's doormats." Neuro smiled and walked down the hall while Sasazuka glared down at Jin, kicking him to get him on his feet. The other officers were in the hall, responding to Sasazuka's cues. One stepped forward to lend Yoshi a helping arm, escorting him down the outer hall to the elevator.

"You," Sasazuka said, pointing at one of the officers, "Call in to Mr. Usui to update him on the situation. He'll want to take charge, here." The officer nodded, and Sasazuka stepped back into Yoshi's house. He had a feeling Neuro was already beginning the search Sasazuka himself would conduct, albeit with more unorthodox methods.

"Stay here," he ordered Jin, who saluted, then bumblingly followed Sasazuka anyway. The young man was both stubborn and easily awed, which made for an odd composition, particularly in times like these.

"This place is _amazing_," Jin said, voice almost a whisper.

The two detectives found Neuro standing at the end of one of the halls, surrounded by wary felines and holding a familiar cellphone in his hand. Sasazuka raised an eyebrow, and Neuro raised a hand. Looking up, Sasazuka nodded to himself. The ventilation shaft. So, Yako _had_ been here.

"Yoshi isn't lying. He believes everything he told you." Neuro pocketed the phone, pausing for a moment to regard Sasazuka. "There are traces of a strong depressant in the kitchen and the sitting room. There's also a safe in the sitting room, with a few valuables inside. No holding area, and no other sign of her."

Sasazuka regarded the demon with a sort of closed curiosity. "The phone is strong circumstantial."

"I leave that sort of game to you. I am merely interested in the byproducts." Neuro looked up, then smiled pleasantly. "I have a train to catch. Do you have any requests?"

Jin was about to speak, but Sasazuka cut him off. "I prefer live deliveries."

Neuro nodded, a sort of loose acknowledgment of Sasazuka's words. "Indeed." Without further words, he was gone.

Sasazuka looked around the room once more, the felines inside eying him with intense curiousity. "Mrowr?"

"Jin."

"Yes, sir?"

"...Feed the cats." Sasazuka turned and left the room, Jin still spluttering inside. If Yoshi was telling the truth, there was hardly any point in getting on his bad side. Besides, it would keep the young man occupied long enough that Sasazuka could tap the lines he wanted to, and fast.

Moving back through the halls, he dialed one number, knowing the other end would pick up. Besides, the call after this one was going to be difficult. Talking to parents always was.

"Hello. It's Sasazuka. I need you to do something for me..."

**--**

_A/N:__ Indeed! Yako had been drugged. Congratulations to those of you who picked up on it! Given as we're moving into the interview, next, please feel free to suggest interview questions for Yako to be asked! I have quite a few in mind, but always appreciate the input. Who knows! We may already be thinking along the same lines!_

_As always, thank you for your time, input, and encouragement._


	6. Confrontations

Daichi startled as the train passed into another tunnel, roaring in his imagination, though the noise was really quite reasonable. "Goddamn trains." He hated them, but it was far more affordable than flying, and he was fairly certain should his train crash or derail he would be able to get himself out safely. With planes, the same logic didn't quite apply.

He sighed, and settled back in his chair. The numbers of travelers had been shifting all day, until this particular car held only a handful. Daichi smiled tiredly at an older woman who was glancing his way. She smiled back, then returned to staring blankly out the window.

Five minutes later, half the mountainside crashed down around them. Screams ricocheted around the car and the ones up and down the line. Daichi himself was scrambling to his feet, head reeling from the impact. His car leaned at an almost perfect forty-five degree angle, caught by the far wall of the cave.

Dammit, he was going to die.

"Daichi Yamamoto?"

Daichi turned his head, eyes wild. He hadn't heard that name for a while. Odds were someone was calling out for another passenger on the train. _Except they aren't yelling._

A hand fell on his shoulder, squeezing hard.

"_You're coming with me._"

A shiver of fear made his knees go weak. Daichi turned his head, and saw someone vaguely familiar. Ah yes, the assistant to the detective girl. Negima? Naru? "Why are you here?" he asked as his knees gave out.

Neuro's face took on a look of horrible anger. "You drugged Yako Katsuragi. You will tell me where she was taken. You," he said, eyes taking on an unearthly gleam, "Will satisfy my hunger."

_Holy shit_, Daichi thought as he fainted, _He's a cannibal._

--

"What made you decide to get into detective work? It's not quite a field where young woman would usually flock." The Director smiled, her eyes fixed on Yako's face. A panel of at least fifteen buttons rested by her knee, and her finger was waving like a metronome. Yako could almost hear the tick, tock of the woman's beautifully manicured nail.

"I don't know," she said, offering a nervous laugh. Yako wasn't actually nervous. In fact, her eyes showed absolute anger. "When did you decide to get into abductions and blackmailing? It doesn't quite fit your image."

The Director's finger paused, and then her other hand negligently pushed one of the buttons on the panel. The big screen Yako half-faced erupted into chaotic movements and screams as a shot was fired. All the teens in the large enclosure had hit the ground, covered their heads, or huddled behind someone else.

This time, no one looked to be bleeding.

_A blank,_ Yako thought. _She's insane._ The realization wasn't new, but the extent of that realization took on new meaning.

"Tch. I'm interviewing _you_, darling. Please keep that in mind. Now, once again." The Director cleared her throat, her pretty smile still in place. "What made you decide to get into detective work? It's not quite the field where a young woman would usually flock."

Yako swallowed her ire and fear, giving the Director a plaster smile. "Oh, I don't know. It must have been right after my father had been killed, and the police weren't finding any leads as to why. I guess that was when I really got interested."

"So you never read mystery novels when you were younger? Not a fan of any mystery comics?"

"I didn't read all that often before, I'm afraid."

The Director tutted again. "Quite the role model you are. Now, Yako, are you familiar with the fan following you've amassed since your appearance in the national eye? I hear you have fans even in foreign countries! How does that make you feel?"

The question didn't make much sense to Yako, but she could see the Director's finger slowly begin to slow, and bit off a response. "I'm not sure. I never wanted to be famous."

The Director's finger kept moving. "Understandable. Odd that you go to such lengths to gain attention and fame, however, when you profess such a desire against fame." The woman paused, thinking. "Then you are unaware of the fanworks to be found concerning you online?"

"I am aware," Yako began, "That there are fans online. The amount of visitors to our website don't match the numbers of cases we are asked about, and I have an idea of what kind of fan mail we might be getting." The last was a lie. Akane handled all the emails Neuro didn't find interesting, which was almost all of them, and Yako hadn't bothered herself to care. People who didn't know her wishing her well made her feel uncomfortable, particularly when it wasn't obligated by their school or other social custom.

"I am sure your fans are glad that you know they exist. One of the questions that has been haunting the forums as well as my own mind concerns your status in relationships. Are you single?" The Director leaned forward, smile growing.

"Er, yes I am. I don't really think that's anyone's business." Yako found herself looking at the television screen again, seeing the fear in the teenagers trapped there. "They have their own lives to live."

"Certainly you won't deny the populace their curiosity. You say you aren't taken, but are you dating? After all, there is your assistant. Several of your admirers feel that closeness indicates something deeper, especially when you are rarely seen without him in public. Then there is that handsome officer, Mr. Sasazuka, or his young associate Mr. Ishigaki."

Yako snorted, amused despite the situation. "My assistant is my assistant, and Mr. Sasazuka and Mr. Ishigaki are friends and contacts I've formed through the police department.

"If you say so." The Director smiled, her finger pausing for a moment before continuing it's back and forth dance. "If you were going to be seduced by one of those three men, who would it be?"

Yako fought the urge to roll her eyes. There was no real answer to that question. Mr. Sasazuka was an uncle or older brother of sorts. She liked him, certainly, but didn't think he was much the kind for seducing. Ishigaki was at least closer to her in age. Neuro was right out of the – her thoughts derailed, seeing that finger come close to stopping, her other hand hovering over the panel of buttons. "_Neuro!_" she blurted, realizing belatedly she'd gone with her normal instinct in insane situations – call out and locate the most likely suspect. Perhaps his name was like a panic response.

The Director looked delighted. "Ooh, a student-mentor relationship, with the mentor being the younger one in the equation! You're quite adventurous, Yako."

Yako didn't point out that she was answering a hypothetical question. The Director wasn't a person who would appreciate the correction, and unfortunately, Yako felt the trapped teenagers would be the ones to suffer.

"What about your assistant, Neuro, makes him attractive to you?"

These questions were stupid. Fame was stupid. As soon as she was out of here, for Yako had faith she _would_ get out of here, she was retiring. Neuro could field his own cases now, and she'd be a psychological consultant if he needed it. Yes. That is exactly what she'd do. "I don't know, his hair."

"What about his hair?"

"The contrast. I find that so immeasurably attractive. Yes, his hair has simply got to be the thing."

Laughing, the Director winked at Yako. "A hair fetish, hmm? I wouldn't have expected that from you, Ms. Katsuragi, if you don't mind me saying so." Leaning back, the Director favored Yako with another smile. "How would you describe him, in a word?"

"Demonic."

"Interesting-"

"Two-faced. Maniacal. Brilliant. Twisted. Sick. Serious. Thought-provoking. Should I go on?"

"No, that is quite alright." The Director's demeanor had shifted, looking far less displeased. "Seven words too many, really." Her hand twitched, and in rapid succession, hit several different buttons on the panel.

Yako screamed. "No! Stop it!" The silent echoes of her cries repeated on the television screen, while the teens dived and wept, several bleeding after this round of shots. At least two weren't moving, others clutching limbs or body-parts in silent agony.

The Director watched along with Yako, lips twitching into a far less sane semblance of a smile. "Oops. My hand slipped. Now, where were we?"

--

Neuro let Daichi drop from his grasp as he pulled out one of his demonic tools. "Seven seven seven tools of the Demonic World, Evil Smelling Salts!" He lacked enthusiasm, but not appreciation, as he knelt next to Daichi and allowed the small, bug-like white creatures to crawl out and affix themselves to the membrane of Daichi's nose.

Moments later, the man was awake again, gagging on the stench permeating his senses. "What the heck is that? How gross!"

Neuro, unappreciative, un-gloved his hand. "Smelling Salts. You fainted." The sharp, serrated blades of his fingers inched forward, catching bits and pieces of light to reflect back at Daichi. "You kidnapped Yako Katsuragi, utilizing some sort of powerful sleeping drug in order to catch her unawares and transport her to a holding container from which she managed to escape."

Daichi looked surprised, but Neuro was continuing. "She managed to phone the police, contacting myself by chance, before she was seized yet again by individuals you contacted prior to leaving the town. Your lover, Yoshi, has no knowledge of what has transpired, and you want to keep him ignorant."

The demon's eyes flashed, spiraling green as he gently caressed Daichi's throat. "I know you've done it. Now I want to know where she is."

"Y-you! You're not human. You can't be!" Daichi shivered, eyes wide with terror.

"No," Neuro said, his smile small and pinched. He wasn't bothering to look pleasant for the moment. Neuro wasn't pleased, so he didn't see why he had to pretend. "And you are not simply a financial adviser." The knives pressed closer, drawing blood, and Daichi broke into hysterical laughter. His eyes overflowed with tears.

"You wouldn't know. You and that fucking detective," he said, swallowing. "Have no idea how damn hard it is to earn the respect you deserve. Yoshi wouldn't know it either if it wasn't for me, but he knows that. He just doesn't know how he got there." Daichi laughed, a hollow sound.

"He still thinks the debtors went away because of my genius, but that's not the only truth. Guys on the underground, the real filthy ones, the ones like you," he said, a shot at Neuro, "Don't give a guy room to breathe, even if the money's a sure shot. No, they wrap you so tight around their dicks they're always hard, and then they taunt you about the horrible things they're just waiting to do to everything you've worked for just for shits and giggles. Tearing things down, breaking every shred of credibility you can ever have... You have no fucking idea what that's like."

Neuro waited, feeling this particular mystery was almost ready to devour. Daichi wasn't the end goal, this was becoming clear, but he was a necessary stepping stone.

"Why did she come back?" Daichi sought Neuro's eyes. "Why did she come back alone? You weren't watching her – no one was watching her – you took away every last excuse I needed to let them forget about the little detective. She's not half as attractive an idea when she's being walked everywhere, but you just had to be something else, didn't you?" Daichi had stopped crying, looking desolate. The emotion was lost on Neuro for all it's complexities. "She's still young enough to be untouched, isn't she? Physically, that is. She walked right into the lion's den, and she's carrying fish by the handfuls. I don't know where your teacher is. Haha, hahaha, I felt you flinch. Go ahead. Kill me." There was no melodramatic shift, only a deeper sadness, a deeper weariness that moved over Daichi's form. "If I knew where they took Yako, I would have told you already. They never let me know anything more than a number."

He coughed, meeting Neuro's unflinching, unforgiving gaze. "I can tell you what I suspect. They're close to town. Can't help but stay around the watering hole."

The mystery solidified, and Neuro didn't bother thanking the man for his meal. His transformation startled Daichi, but didn't break through the melancholy that embraced him. Neuro brought him close and devoured his mystery, feeling it was rather flat, and too emotionally invested. Neuro was used to the spicing of despair and anger, jealousy and hatred, greed and negligence, but this twisted, helpless love and fear combined in a new way. There would be no thanks for this introduction of sensation.

Daichi passed out again as Neuro's meal finished, looking drawn. The demon picked him up, flung him over his shoulder, and set back to town.

By now, Sasazuka was bound to have something.

--

Yako felt herself crying, far before she realized she was. "You're sick! People can't treat each other this way. How can you do this? How can you hurt them?"

"My dear," the Director said, her head cocked to the side, "By pressing any one of these buttons. Really now."

Yako held back from saying anything about how obvious that was, and how it wasn't an answer as she tried to fly up out of the chair and found she couldn't. Of all the most ridiculous things in the world -

"Oh yes, please don't mind the glue. We needed to make sure you wouldn't spoil my shot somehow." Yako didn't want to believe she'd been crazy glued to the chair. There was no salvaging this top now!

"On the topic of Neuro, how did you meet him?"

Yako answered stiffly, through her tears and slightly stuffy nose. "Star gazing."

"Star gazing? You were out star gazing?"

"Yes. It was a beautiful night."

"And you met Neuro then."

"He ran me over."

"With a car?" The Director managed to mimic horror in her voice almost perfectly.

"No," Yako replied drably, "With a bicycle. Skinned my knee."

"Did he kiss it and make it better, darling? Yako, do tell."

She felt sick to her stomach. "Yes. Of course. How'd you know? This is so embarrassing."

"Amore is like that, Yako. What a mysterious beginning! Now, I have always been curious about... Oh." The Director sat up, much as Yako did when she noticed the action on the screen. "Look at that. My dear, you've been holding out on me. If you simply must go after Neuro, you should have told me quite plainly that it was for his eyes."

Eyes which Yako noted could actually be seen as Neuro, along with Sasazuka and a handful of other officers of the law, broke through into the containment room. "Neuro!" Yako said, feeling the mix of gladness and confusion as she watched him on screen.

The Director sighed, then stood up. "There's no helping timing, I suppose. This part of the filming is done, boys." She turned, eying Yako, and pulled out something resembling a gun from her bustline. "Thank you for your cooperation, Yako." With a whoosh of expelled air, a dart pricked through the skin of Yako's arm. As she felt another kind of lethargy consume her, a last few words caught her falling interest.

"Cut her out of the chair, then bring her down to Studio G."

Whatever the reason, Yako's floating mind hovered around the words, and slowly shied away.

--

Sasazuka examined the room he stood in, then the fifteen subjects tied up on the floor. All of them were between fourteen and twenty-three, and all were in fairly good health.

"We've got three dead, sir." A younger officer saluted Sasazuka, then went off to find Usui. The ambulances at ready for the other four teenagers who had been found seriously injured were blasting their sirens as they moved out. Special workers were being called in to deal with the remaining teens, who in their various stages of shock were alternately crying, yelling, or attempting to fight helping officers.

There was no sign of Yako Katsuragi.

"Twelve cameras, only one with an active feed." Neuro tapped his lips, eyes wide and innocent. Ishigaki had chosen to remain further away, watching the demon. Sasazuka merely nodded, not feeling particularly pressed to ask why Neuro seemed so confident of his facts. He, too, had noticed the cameras, but nothing particular about their state of operation.

"Someone was watching, then. It would explain the lights we found in each of the gunman's booths." Sasazuka sighed, tired.

"The gunmen are well conditioned. Not one of them put up a fight, but not one of them is registering much of a response outside of pupil dilation." Neuro smiled, looking cute. Sasazuka was vaguely impressed with the demon's acting skills. "Eeaah! It's like brainwashing, from one of those cartoons Teacher's always watching when she should be doing work!"

"For school, or for you?"

Neuro smiled, but didn't answer to clarify. Sasazuka knew which the answer was, but trying to figure out what to do about it was the tricky part. "She won't graduate without good grades."

"Statistically speaking, performing at the most base degree of passing allows students of all ages to move forward a grade!" Neuro's finger shot up into the air, and his eyes took on a round, empty look.

"Most statistics are made up on the spot."

Neuro shrugged, and Sasazuka looked back toward the entrance.

"We're going to have to go deeper," he said at last.

Neuro smiled, the same demented grin he'd worn when dealing with Terra. "Indeed. How exciting. They're next move is certainly coming." He turned his head toward Sasazuka, eyes glowing. "This mystery is on the tip of my tongue."

Sasazuka sighed. "Reassuring. Well, you do what you need to. I see paperwork coming my way."

Indeed, whenever Usui looked quite that unhappy, it inevitably meant paperwork was soon to follow. _I wonder how much Ishigaki can handle all at once..._


	7. Dissembly

Yako's first thought, as she tried to open heavy eyes, was on something she'd said to Godai fourth months ago. "I'm not afraid of failing so much as stopping." Godai had given her an odd look, halfway through his cup of noodles filched from one of the nearby convenience marts.

"What the hell does that mean?"

She'd paused to consider, then shook her head. "I'm not sure I can explain."

Finding herself staring into blank darkness, Yako rolled those words around in her head again. _I'm not afraid of failing so much as stopping._

She wondered which she was closer to now.

The heavy clicking of heels sounded from somewhere close to Yako's current location. She turned hear head, feeling some sort of restraining device around her neck. Was she collared? She moved her arms, feeling a similar restraint around her wrists, and again around her ankles. It felt like metal at her back, but she wasn't quite sure. It wasn't as cold as she would have expected.

_How long have I been out?_

Humming filled her ears, the only warning before fluorescents filled the room with light and temporarily blinded her. Yako groaned, slamming her eyes shut, unable to find reprieve from the sudden invasion. "Oh good, Yako, you're awake."

The Director's voice was almost sing song as she walked into the room, having spoken from the other side of the revealed metal door. "I must apologize, dear, you are _much_ lighter than we suspected. We're dangerously close to being behind schedule!" Her eyes narrowed, irritation in them fro the briefest moment before the insane sobriety returned.

"I'm not," Yako started, swallowing as she found her mouth to be dry, "Sure I understand."

The other woman smiled, the click-click of her heels almost deafening to Yako's ears as she came closer. "Of course you don't. You will, shortly. I'm sad our little interview was cut short, but what can a woman do? Alternate takes, and then the editing... ah, but we don't have the _time_." She tapped her fingers next to Yako's arm, small, sharp clicks on the metal surface. "We'll make do. Are you much of a screamer, Yako? I know you can yell, not a question of _that_, but one of those, " she paused, breathing in deep, "_soulful_ cries straight from the gut."

Yako didn't move, feeling a thrill of helplessness run up her spine before she frowned and refused to answer the Director.

"I see," the Director said, nails stroking Yako's arm, then cheek. "I hope you turn out to be a pleasant surprise."

Yako swallowed, hating the soft touch. She was about to make a statement on how she didn't care to be much of a surprise either way, let alone a pleasant one, when another person joined them in the room. She thought she recognized them from earlier, in the room with the monitor watching the teens, but she wasn't sure.

_Neuro was there, Sasazuka too._ The thought was comforting; she didn't doubt Neuro's capabilities, and even less Sasazuka's, for all she didn't know the ins and outs on what those specifically were. This would be over soon. It _had_ to be.

The Director spoke with the newcomer, nodding twice, smile fading then coming back in full force. "Let's get rolling." The man disappeared, then returned, dragging in what Yako vaguely recognized as a boom microphone.

"Yako," the Director said, coming back to her side, "I've written up a script for you to follow. I suggest you do so, exactly as written. Improv will not be tolerated." Her expression was as serene as ever, if her eyes looked particularly cold. "You are a detective, might I remind you, not an actress."

"I'm not a news caster, either." She licked her lips, feeling some mild chapping on their surface.

The Director touched her cheek, nails pressing in much more stiffly. "_Read_."

Before she retorted with a dry, _Read what_, yet another television descended from the ceiling. It was much smaller than the one before, if equally absurd in Yako's opinion. She bit back a sigh as it flickered to life, expecting something similar to a karaoke screen to meet her eyes.

Instead, she found herself staring back at someone who was, for all intents and purposes, herself. Only the film was grainy, the camera of a lesser quality than those she'd seen before, and the room her other self was sitting in looked suspiciously like an industrial warehouse.

Yako's startlement drew the Director like a moth to flame. "She's almost perfect, isn't she? It's very hard to find suitable representations for these film of mine. _You_ were a particular challenge, Yako. Still, on short notice? You'd never notice that she's just a bit taller."

Yako couldn't believe anyone could have done this, on any kind of short notice that she was familiar with. She would have asked, when she heard familiar audio feed back to her. The voice of the Director was gone, replaced with a dark, voice-filtered _other_ correlating to the man she now saw moving by the actress. The change made the Director's previous statements even more disturbing, as the heavily filtered voice, barely heard as if it were being spoken even now, leaned in close to the actress and said, "I'm your biggest fan."

The Director moved above Yako's head, out of her range of vision. Her eyes were glued to the screen as something caught the light; a flash of metal, and suddenly this was beyond frightening. Six had been hung up on the idea of being higher than humanity, an evolution that was in itself the ultimate. He'd been right, in a way. He was the perfected form of these people's intentions, an insanity born of entitlement and self-obsession.

Yako wanted to move, to look away as she heard her own answers echoed back, and the scalpel came closer to the actress's flesh. She couldn't help from shouting when she saw it puncture. "_No!_" The Director's hand snaked across her mouth, slamming down hard.

"No adlibbing, dear. Wait for your cue."

---

"_**SASAZUKA! GODAI! NEURO!**_" Soft sobs and incoherent screams greeted Neuro's curious, swirling eyes, and Godai's wide, frightened ones.

"What the _fuck_?" He looked to Neuro, sick at stomach, and at heart. "What the _fuck_ was that? Don't tell me she's fucking dead, you –- _you_ --"

Neuro's hand came down on Godai's head, forcibly directing it back to the screen. His smile was almost alarmingly genuine; Yako would have realized exactly what that meant, but Godai only had an idea.

"Quiet, Dog. Your yapping's spoiling my victory."

Godai sputtered, angry enough to yank Neuro's hand off and step up into his face. "What the _fuck_--"

The telephone rang, and Neuro nonchalantly backhanded Godai into the television. Amidst the sound of sparks, breaking glass, and Godai's cursing, Neuro smiled and let his eyes slide out of focus as he answered the call. "You're slow!"

That cheery reply was met with a calm, "We've tracked the line back."

"Still left high and dry?" Neuro watched Godai extract himself from the wreckage with some detached amusement, knowing the policeman's answer beforehand.

"Nothing. Evidence of occupation, and recent. Nothing leaving."

Neuro held the phone away from his ear for a moment, pondering at the odd ways humans tried to connect with each other. They were all so pathetically... _inane_. Still, now that Sasazuka had caught up to his own footing, in a sense, it was time to arrange their next move. Yako's disappearance irked him again now as he realized he would have to once again directly interface, no matter that she hadn't intended her own abduction. "Teacher has something to show you," he said, allowing his tone to be almost jovial. "Something you'll find most interesting, even if she is so impolite as to have not had the grace to deliver this information herself!"

Silence as Sasazuka absorbed the information, then a small noise of assent. "We'll be there."

Neuro slammed the phone down, eyes widened with feigned pleasure. "Come, Dog, we have guests." Striding forth, he grabbed Godai by the shoulder and tossed him toward the door, unminding of the blood the other man had left behind. For now. "I require a viewing device. You have five minutes to find me one."

Godai didn't wait around for the specifics of _what_ would happen if he didn't produce a television for Neuro; by now, he preferred not to know.

---

The sounds of screams of pain and horror, mixing with the pleading for someone to stop this, for anyone to stop this slid over the men gathered in the room with a slick, oily feeling. Usui, who had insisted on coming along to monitor Sasazuka, found himself taken aback by the proceedings. In fact, he was disgusted; as little as he appreciated Yako's interference in his policing, and as much as he resented Sasazuka's unspoken assistance, he would never wish anything of this sort on the young woman.

"Somebody," he ground out, "Tell me what, exactly, we've just seen."

Neuro said nothing, waiting for Sasazuka. Godai was frustrated and bandaging himself in the back.

"A fucking _sadist_," was his helpful comment, causing Usui to twitch and sending Neuro into thoughts of appropriate punishments for his Number Two Slave.

Perhaps more crossdressing. He responded so well to that, the last time.

"An elaborate set-up." Sasazuka, sans his usual cigarette, spoke at last. From where he leaned against the wall, he stared first at the blank screen, then looked to Usui.

"Are you saying we aren't looking into a kidnapping homicide?"

"I guess." There was no room for argument in Sasazuka's tone, though he offered the kind of deference to Usui that usually upset the other man.

"So the video's a fake."

"No." Sasazuka straightened, rolling his shoulders. "The video's real."

Godai looked up, scowling. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

Ishigaki frowned down at him, scoffing. "Shut up and listen, and you might get a clue!"

Godai stood, stalking toward Ishigaki, only stopping as Sasazuka beat him there and smacked his partner over the back of the head. "You don't understand it either." Nor did Sasazuke look quite ready to explain.

Fortunately, someone was. Rapid clicking of keys and the glint of a computer screen off of glasses preceded Higuchi's response. "Guinea pig." At Usui's irritated look, he pushed his glasses up, briefly grinning before returning to utter seriousness. "A sub-genre of film banned in Japan in the eighties. Americans called foul to the Japanese Government when they thought they were looking at actual snuff films."

Godai made a noise of disgust, which Yuuya ignored until it came with a question.

"How the hell do you know that?"

He shrugged. "The internet. Turns out it's for more than just porn." Godai went a little red in the face, and Usui looked positively displeased. Yuuya forged on, potentially out of spite. "There's been a growing black market draw for pseudo-snuff in the last five years, some of which are under investigation in relation to a few other kidnappings throughout the Japanese islands. One is under investigation by our own department."

Usui shot him a look. "How do you know _that_?"

Yuuya shrugged yet again, though this time he had the faintest hint of a smirk. "The internet."

Neuro interrupted at that point, opting for a look similar to those on the faces of the men around him. "A fake disembowelment? Aye! What will Teacher get herself mixed up in next? Perhaps a decapitation?" He seemed to slide from this thought into the next with disturbing ease. "If Teacher isn't actually dead, then the video is a discouragement to keep looking. Who could want to keep Teacher alive and have us--"

Yuuya interrupted, sitting back after a clatter of keys and looking a mixture of pleased and disturbed. "Not just us," he said, turning his laptop to face the majority of the room. "The rest of the world."

The headline for one of the city's most prominent papers would be out later that day, but it stared back at them in bold times new roman: **Yako Katsuragi, Famous Teen Detective, Suspected Murdered.**

Usui ground his teeth, then started yelling. "Find out _who it is_ and _where their information came from_. _**Now!**_**"**

**---**

The gathered individuals were quiet at first, waiting.

"They're late."

"Yes," another voice temporized, "Yet not obscenely so."

"Yet."

"And never likely to be." The new voice carried a note of pleasure, as well as censure, prompting a return to total silence. Apparently satisfied after a few minutes, they began speaking again. "What news?"

"The coastal show is running on schedule."

"Excellent. We'd been worried."

"The issues have been smoothed over." The voice was terse, unhappy in being questioned.

"Of course. Any other news?"

"The cat's been put in the overnight container. She sang quite prettily on the way there."

The others seemed to find this amusing. "We'll see how she sings after being to the Office. Who knows? We might have a feline canary on our hands."

---

There was a certain pattern Yako was noticing, lately, and she figured it was one she should stop as soon as possible. To begin with, waking into strange rooms with metallic walls was distinctly unsettling. Then there was the sparsity of contents. Really, even a nice painting on the wall would have been an improvement Yako could appreciate. The fact she hadn't had a decent meal in what had to be close to three days, if not more, only made her painfully aware of how desperately she wanted out.

This time, at least, she wasn't waking into darkness. She pushed herself up, feeling gauze wrapped around her arms where the leather from the chair she was glued into at her interview had been removed. She couldn't exactly recall when this had happened, only known it had to have been between when the television had finally stopped showing her the horrible dissection of the actress and before she'd passed out.

Her stomach growled, reminding her yet again of the lack of food she'd ingested. Standing, she opted to explore her new holding room instead of dwelling on her hunger.

Standing, Yako finally took note of another new condition, or in this case, lack of condition. Her clothing, what little she'd retained from her various efforts, was decidedly missing. Instead she was wearing a hospital gown, one that lived up to it's cold reputation. She did her best not to think of all this meant, looking around to find something else to add to her wardrobe, finally settling on tearing the sheet off the bed and crafting her own semi-functional toga.

Better outfitted, she went over her room one more time. Toothpaste was in a little container by the sink, which itself was rather shallow. This time there was a least a seat on the toilet, a sad but definite step up in the world. Toilet paper was still one ply, but she didn't see a Guest Complaint card.

A beep blared through the room, and Yako snatched the only thing not bolted down as she positioned herself by the door. The toothpaste container wasn't particularly frightening, but it gave her confidence.

The first head through the door received a good conk to the back, followed by a tug and artfully placed leg, leaving the poor recipient sprawled on the floor. Yako had a hard time drudging up sympathy as she slipped past them into the hall beyond –- and came face to face with two nurses, one carrying what looked to be a shearing kit. "Hey," the taller one exclaimed, "You're not supposed to be--"

Yako didn't stick around to hear the end of the sentence, taking off in her makeshift toga at a run. Some of the fabric came undone, and soon she was clutching it to her chest and trying not to trip as she heard pursuers thundering after her.

"By whatever probably isn't listening _I will never even think the word cat _if I get out of this in the next five minutes!" She ran around a corner, knocking into a suspiciously homey table with her thigh and muttering an apology to the daffodils in vase that almost toppled over. The flowers may have appreciated her politeness, but Yako wasn't around to see if that was so.

_Neuro, if you just figure this out right now I _swear_ I will not complain about any of your whims for the next month, at least. I'll be properly awed by your demonic genius and-- oh screw it all, I'll get myself out. Disregard that._

Even as the last thought crossed her mind, an ominous 'ding' drew her attention to the paneled doors of an opening elevator.

_There's no way he could have--_ she found herself thinking as a mixture of gratitude and horror filled her stomach as she waited for whoever was going to emerge to do so. The hard black eyes of a short man in a business suit looked out at her, impassive.

Her pause was enough time for the hard-breathing nurses to catch up, and tug their uniforms straight as their hands gripped her upper arms. "Sorry, sir," one apologized. "She knocked Matsumoto out."

The man didn't say anything for a moment, which made both nurses tense. When he finally flicked his fingers, as if this whole thing was beneath him anyway, Yako fought off sighing in relief along with both the man and woman holding her.

"Hn. No harm done." He looked Yako over, critical eyes finding a myriad of faults she didn't care to hear explicated anytime soon. "Take her to the examination office. If she's so lively, she is ready for what awaits her there."

The nurses nodded, then tried to wrench Yako around to continue on their merry way – only both turned in opposite directions, earning frustrated huffs out of the man, a grimace out of the woman, and a thinly concealed gasp of pain from Yako. The man didn't say a word when the unwieldy trio finally did start on their way back down the halls Yako had just come from. She figured they were closer to where she'd woken up when she saw the nurse she'd clobbered coming toward them, shearing set originally held by one of the others in hand. He was a rather thin fellow, though his sallow face was improved when he smiled.

"Feisty, aren't you?" He looked at the female nurse, who shrugged her shoulders in reply.

"Supposed to bring her to the office. A bit soon, but what can you do."

Matsumoto nodded, giving Yako one more smile before turning around. "We'll have you clean in a jiffy," he said, as if this were comforting news. "Just a quick question. Would you like us to cut your hair off first, or just go straight for the shave?"


End file.
